


Streetlights

by daddystrider



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, DEEP SHIT, Dave is a dick, F/F, Fluff, Grinding, John is the new kid, M/M, Stars, Suicidal mention, also sad stuff, cute stuff, highschool, music room shenanigans, self-harm (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:53:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddystrider/pseuds/daddystrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Egbert moves to a town where Dave Strider's name is a warning and Dave likes the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. john has never been good at beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm making a series, because yeah. it's going to be a pretty big one.  
> this'll have about 18 parts? i want to keep it in that range.  
> for now it's 18. so yeah. enjoy

John’s never been good at beginnings.

When his dad decided to move here, it was so John could have a fresh start, a new beginning. They pitied him - bullied at school, too apathetic to retaliate, causing his attackers to increase the torture - but never once stopped to consider that maybe he didn’t want a fresh start or a new beginning. They didn’t stop to realise that he’d fuck it up, just like everything else.

It’s John’s first day at his new school, Derse Grammar. His parents were surprised he managed to make it into a grammar school. John himself wasn’t, however - he knew kids at grammar schools were less likely to beat you than those at comprehensives and private schools, so he half-assed his way through the tests. The reason he was failing most of his lessons wasn’t because he was stupid - far from it, he was very capable - but rather because he just couldn’t be bothered. He found no joy in working, no solace in the thought of going into the outside world and earning money, so he put the thoughts out of his mind as much as possible.

“Morning,” John’s dad chirps, looking up from his BlackBerry as John drags himself downstairs. John mumbles something in response. His cousin’s friendly face smiles at him from the dining room table, and John smiles slightly, ruffling Jades’ hair as he walks past.

“Breakfast?” he asks Kanaya, their housekeeper. It’s too early for him to form full sentences.

“On the table,” Kanaya says, pointing at the plate opposite Jade. John nods, flopping down in the leather chair opposite his cousin and resting his elbows on the glass table.

The Egbert family are well-off, and John knows it. His dad is CEO of a huge law firm, with shares in an overseas oil company to add to that. His nanna owns the baking company Betty Crocker, and they both make enough money in one year for them to cease working for a long while. They have houses in every corner of the globe, maids, cooks, everything they could need, but they enjoy working so they continue to do so, donating a huge chunk of their earnings to charities. They are the picture-perfect family.

But that’s where John comes in. John doesn’t fit in this picture-perfect family. John’s not a hard-working, driven son like the one they wish they’d raised. He’s a quiet, introverted, walking failure. He doesn’t try at school, doing the minimum to get half-decent grades. He doesn’t have any particular talents, besides the piano. He doesn't think he's much of a looker either, with his jet-black hair, his annoying buck teeth, his over-sized glasses, sky-blue eyes and lanky frame. He’s moody, quiet, never listens to anyone, never speaks to anyone and generally everything they don’t want in a child. He wishes they’d just give up on him, but even in their despairing they carry on trying to mould him into the person they wish he was. He just wants them to stop.

John scrapes his chair back from the table, scratching it across the marble floor just to aggravate his father. He looks up from his BlackBerry with a frown, but says nothing.

“I’m going,” John mumbles, pressing a swift kiss to Jade’s forehead. “Bye, Dad.”

“Have a good day!” he says cheerily, and John throws Jade a look. Good day. He’s more likely to come across a herd of buffaloes than have a good day.

Jade understands John’s exasperated glance, and grins back at him with a roll of her eyes. John smiles; he’s taught Jade well.

School’s not far away, luckily. Well, it would be, but John cuts through the garden of the house opposite to theirs and runs to the stream that runs along the bottom of it, jumps over the stream and cuts through yet another garden to avoid going the long route that would take a good half-hour to walk.

By the time he vaults over whoever’s fence it is and saunters casually up their driveway to the street it’s gone eight-thirty, meaning he’s late to school on his first day.

He doesn’t really care, though, and he continues his amble right through the huge oak doors of the old building.

“John Egbert?” the receptionist asks, looking at him over her glasses disapprovingly. “You’re late.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” John says.

“Not a good start,” she says distastefully. “Here’s your timetable. Go and find your locker, and then go to your first lesson.” John takes the yellow sheet of paper she shoves towards him with her manicured fingers, not even thanking her before walking into the corridor outside the reception.

His locker is in the Maths corridor, apparently. Which is no fucking help to him at all, as he doesn’t know where that is.

He’s just starting up the stairs when a yell startles him into swivelling around.

“Hey!” a girl calls, walking briskly through the corridor and coming to a stop at the bottom of the varnished mahogany stairs. She’s got short, platinum blonde hair, with a headband atop it. She has these breathtaking violet eyes, that sparkle when she talks. “Are you lost?” John nods, after a moment of hesitation.

“I’m Rose,” she says. “Where do you need to go?”

“John,” John says. “Maths corridor.” Rose nods and jogs up the stairs so she’s next to John.

“Right direction,” she says, and then she’s taking the steps two at a time and John has to practically sprint to keep up with her. John’s not unfit by anyone’s standards, but even he’s out of breath by the time the blur of his surroundings has turned into a paneled corridor with ugly metal lockers that are as small as they are incongruous.

“Here,” Rose says helpfully, opening a locker on the top row of lockers to reveal they’re even smaller on the inside than they look. It’s like a backwards TARDIS.

“How am I going to fit anything in there?” John asks in disbelief. Rose squints at him.

“What year are you in?” she asks.

“Eleven,” John asks, wondering why that matters. Rose shrugs and opens a few of the lockers around John’s, stuffed full of books and folders.

“You can use these too, then,” she says. John frowns.

“They’re already in use,” he points out.

“They’re Year Tens, you’re Year Eleven. They have to let you. School policy.” John has a strong feeling that it’s a student body policy rather than a school one, but chooses not to comment. He doesn’t need a locker anyway.

“I’ll pass,” he says. “How long until the end of first period?”

“Forty minutes,” Rose says, and John rolls his eyes. Just his luck. “What have you got?”

“Chemistry, Mr Makara,” John reads from the sheet. Rose snorts.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she says sympathetically. “You’re going to fail your GCSE. He's probably one of the worst math teachers at this school.”

“Just what I need,” John mutters, pocketing his timetable. “Will you take me there?”

“Sure,” Rose says, hurrying off down the corridor. John groans as he sets off after her, following her through endless wooden and flagstone corridors until they skid to a halt outside a classroom.

“Here you go,” Rose says helpfully.

“Thanks,” John says awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Rose gives a patient smile.

“I shall be seeing you around, then, John?” she says, and John nods. He’s not planning on making any friends here; he’ll probably never speak to Rose again.

Rose retreats down the corridor at a fast speed and John strides into the classroom, not even knocking.

“John Egbert?” the teacher says, and John nods curtly. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“I don't think so,” John says bluntly. “Where do I sit?” The teacher, Mr Makara, clearly taken aback by John’s devil-may-care attitude, points to a lone seat in the back of the classroom.

“As I was saying, covalent bonds can be found in things like-” is all John hears before he zones out for the rest of the lesson.  
-  
John’s walking to his next lesson, trying to work out where EN6 is, when he bumps into someone who drops their books. He’s about to apologise and help the person pick them up, when-

“Pick them up.” The voice is hostile, cold, and John looks up from his timetable to come face to face with someone who looks like they could murder somebody. He’s got blonde hair swept across his face in a fringe, like Rose's, and his eyes are covered with a pair of aviator shades.

“How about some fucking manners?” John says coolly, and suddenly the entire corridor, bustling with students, freezes and turns to the conflict at hand. The boy stares at John for a good few moments, clearly trying to unnerve him, before he turns to two boys behind him.

“Cronus, Eridan,” the boy says, and the two other boys (presumably Cronus and Eridan) pick John up, one arm each, dragging him off down the corridor, much to everyone’s amusement. John grits his teeth; oh yes, how hilarious, the new boy is getting punished for not being a pushover. Fucking wonderful.

They turn into a store room that John would never have noticed otherwise and shove him inside, locking the door.

“Have fun getting out,” one of them calls casually, and they stride off without another word. John sighs, shrugging off his schoolbag and sitting on the floor with his back to the wall.

Just his fucking luck to get on the wrong side of the school’s psychotic bully.

He’s in there for what feels like days, picking at a loose thread on his skinny jeans, before he hears a key jiggling in the lock of the door and it clicks open, letting in a crack of light.

“John?” a female voice says.

“Yeah?” John replies, and the door swings open fully, hitting John square in the shin. John squints to adjust to the bright light burning his retinas, and realises Rose’s standing in the doorway.

“It’s the end of school,” Rose says apologetically, holding out a hand to help John to his feet. “I would have come earlier, but Dave…”

“Is that prick who got me locked in here your brother?” John asks.

“Who, Dave? Yes,” Rose says, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. John clenches his teeth.

“He’s a psychotic child-abuser,” he proclaims, and Rose shrugs.

“He’s my brother,” she says quietly, and John feels kind of bad. If anyone called Jade a psychotic child-abuser John would be right on their case.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t-”

“No, it's alright,” Rose says with a dismissive wave. “Whatever. Anyway, you’re free now. Just please try not to cross Dave again. He doesn’t like backchat.”

“I don’t like blatant rudeness,” John says. “I’ll backchat him until he stops.”

“On your own head be it,” Rose shrugs, turning on her heel and heading off down the corridor. John curses under his breath. He doesn’t even know how to get to the exit in this maze of a school, so he settles for climbing out of a window and over the school fence, finding himself on the main road. Handy, that - next time he inevitably gets locked in there he’ll remember that.

He goes back the way he came, vaulting across fences and jumping over streams until he arrives on his street. He’s just ambling over to his house - by far the largest and most aesthetically pleasing - when he notices Rose getting out of a car down the road, ten or so houses down, followed by that Dave.

Fuck. His life just can’t get any worse.  
-  
His routine the next morning is much the same, except his dad's not home. He’s used to that, though - with a CEO of a huge law firm as his parent, he can hardly expect to spend a lot of time with him. He doesn’t want to, anyway, so it suits everybody.

“Do you like your new school?” Jade asks, holding a spoonful of cereal, when Kanaya bustles out of the room to make their beds. John shakes his head.

“I don’t like any school,” he says grimly. “School sucks, Jade.” Jade frowns.

“I’m going to be starting school again soon,” Jade says. She was homeschooled, but decided to resume school for her last year. “Will it suck for me too?”

“Nah,” John says, ruffling his cousin’s hair fondly. “You’ve got me.”

“Will you remind me to leave at the right time for school?” Jade asks cheekily, and John frowns.

“Er, if you want?” he says. Jade smiles sweetly.

“Because it’s already twenty-five past,” she says, and John stands up so quickly his chair falls backwards onto the floor. He doesn’t care, though, grabbing his schoolbag and running across gardens, over streams and fences and across roads to get to school.

He still gets there late, despite his best efforts. And to make matters worse, the first thing he sees when he walks through the wrought iron gates into the school building is Dave and his little posse swaggering down the corridor.

“Learned your lesson?” Dave asks, mouth turned down into a frown. John folds his arms and stands his ground. He’s not taking Dave’s shit just like everyone else does. He’s used to being the most hated person in the school; it won’t make any difference to him.

“The lesson of you being a prick? Yeah, I learnt that the second you opened your mouth,” John fires back, and the boys flanking Dave bristle dangerously. Dave makes no indication for them to hurt John, though, so they don’t move.

“You be careful,” Dave says after a moment, the flicker of a smirk present on his features. “It would be such a shame if you got yourself hurt.” With that he sweeps past in a manner that very much reminds John of Draco Malfoy, his little gang of Crabbes and Goyles following him as he goes. John shakes his head; nutters, the lot of them. Then again, they’re nutters who go through with their threats, so maybe John should tone it down a bit.

He wanders down a random corridor to his English lesson, finding it oddly familiar for some reason. He realises why when he hears someone yelling and rattling a doorknob; this is the corridor he ended up getting himself locked in yesterday.

“Hang on,” John calls, striding up to the door and trying the doorknob. It’s locked - obviously, otherwise the kid inside would have been able to get out. John swears under his breath - one of Dave’s goons will have the key.

Unless…

He’d been let out by Rose yesterday, right? And Rose seemed alright, even though she’s Dave’s sister. Maybe Rose will take pity. But the question now is where the fuck is Rose?

“I’m going to get you out,” John calls.

“That would be nice,” a sarcastic voice yells back. “You seem to be taking your time.”

“I don’t have a key, what do you want me to do?” John asks, a bit annoyed at the boy’s tone. “I know who does, though. I just don’t know where he is.”

“If you’re talking about Dave, I’ll pass,” the voice says. “Or Cronus. Or Eridan.”

“Relax,” John says. “I’m talking about Rose.”

“Oh,” the boy says. “She’s in MA1. Or, well, she should be. I doubt she is; she usually skips Maths. You’re more likely to find her in the library, or hurrying around through corridors.”

“I wish she’d hurry around into this corridor,” John mutters. “Where’s the library?”

“Down the stairs at the end of the corridor, take two lefts and a right,” the kid says, and John nods before realising the person can’t see him.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, setting off at a jog down the corridor. He’s never going to find his way around this school, but it doesn’t really bother him – he’s not planning on spending much time in here anyway. What was it the kid said? Three lefts, then a right? Or was it two lefts, and two rights? One left and two rights? Fuck, John needs to actually listen to people.

He doesn’t even know why he’s going to such lengths to help this person. He doesn’t even know them – how can he, they’re locked in the room – yet he’s willing to run (run) to the library to find Dave’s sister and ask for the key for the weird little storage room. Maybe it’s just to get back at Dave for being such a dick for no apparent reason. Yeah, he decides. That’s it. And it’s probably going to land him in a lot of trouble.

He makes his way to the library eventually, and sure enough, Rose is sitting on a chair, reading a journal of some sort.

“Hey,” John calls. Rose whips around to see who it is, and her face splits into a huge grin.

“John, hello!” she slurs, and John has a feeling reading’s not all she’s been doing. John is surprised, he didn't picture someone as elegant as Rose to be one to get drunk. He's itching with the urge to join Rose, but he needs to get the boy out of the room.

“Do you have the key to that room?” John asks, making his way over. Rose frowns.

“I’m not supposed to give it to anyone,” she whispers, glancing from left to right as if someone is going to see them.

“I’ll give it back to you, I promise,” John says. “I just need to get someone out.”

“But…Dave…” Rose’s argument is faltering as her alcohol-riddled brain struggles to put two and two together. “Okay, fine. But…give it back, promise?”

“I promise,” John says, as Rose digs a key out of her pocket. “Thanks, Rose.” He hurries back off in the direction he came, throwing a quick glance at the clock in the library as he goes. He’s got about twenty minutes until first period ends – hopefully he can make it back to the corridor without getting lost before then.

In fact, he makes it back to the corridor in no time at all (figuratively speaking), taking all the right turns. He’s pretty pleased with himself for that.

“Hey,” he says, approaching the door to the room. “I got the key.”

“You did?” The person sounds surprised. “Dude, I thought you were just going to leave me. Most people do.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’m not most people then, aren’t you?” John says, unlocking the door with a click and pulling it open. A small, tanned kid tumbles out, and when he straightens up he barely reaches John’s shoulders. He grins up at him, shoving a baseball cap that was on the floor back on his short hair.

“I owe you one,” the boy says. “I’m Tavros, by the way.”

“John,” John says. Tavros frowns. 

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he says. John grimaces.

“That’s because I started yesterday and spent the whole day in that fucking room,” he says, jerking his head towards the room Tavros’s just come out of. Tavros pulls a sympathetic face.

“What happened?” he asks. John sighs.

“Oh, I pissed Dave off by standing up to him,” he shrugs. “What did you deserve to get locked in there, anyway?” It’s Tavros’s turn to shrug.

“Dunno, man,” he says. “They just hate me. Maybe it’s cause I’m small, y’know, so they like to see what places they can fit me in.”

“Bastards,” John says, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Tavros agrees vehemently. “Hey, do you want to hang out with us at break? I mean, you don’t have to, don’t feel obliged, but.” He breaks off, shrugging awkwardly. John smiles.

“Sure,” he says. This Tavros kid seems nice enough, right? Plus, maybe it’ll give him some protection against Dave and his cronies.


	2. The Sexicans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2! im gonna aim for a chapter a day so yay  
> woo that rhymes

Tavros’s friends accept John as if he’s always been there, offering him food and swapping jokes and banter. There aren’t many of them, but John’s never really had friends anyway. No one likes his apathetic attitude, and he’s never made any effort to appeal to anyone. Tavros and all his friends, however, are clearly too thick to see John’s personality-less person for what it is.

“Where did you even move from?” Rufioh, Tavros’ brother (though you wouldn’t think it – they look nothing alike, and Rufioh’s about a foot taller than Tavros) asks, dodging a well-aimed sausage roll to the face expertly.

“The countryside,” John shrugs. “Dunno, we never really stay anywhere long.”

“Are you saying you’re going to leave us soon?” Sollux demands, throwing another sausage roll at Rufioh. “Dammit, will you stop moving? I’ve only got three left,” he exclaims, directing this at Rufioh as he furiously pelts him with another. Rufioh grins and ducks again.

“No,” John says. “I think we’re going to stay here a while; Dad’s setting up a new branch of his business somewhere around here.”

“Here?” Tavros asks, joining Sollux in pelting his brother with food. Rufioh yelps and scarpers, running around the back of the tree they’re sitting near. Sollux laughs and simply gets up, following Rufioh with his food.

“Yeah, I don’t really know,” John says, watching Sollux and Rufioh in amusement. Rufioh could easily pick Sollux up and stop him, but he’s laughing at Sollux’s desperation to actually hit him. “I don’t know much about my parents.”

“Man, I wish I didn’t know much about my parents,” Equius says with a grimace, and Tavros laughs.

“He walked in on them once,” he says to John. “As in…” The wink he punctuates his trailed off sentence with leaves nothing to the imagination.

“Sucks to be you,” John says, but he’s grinning. There’s a victorious yell and all three of them turn to see Sollux jumping around cheering and Rufioh with a piece of ham on his shirt.

“I win!” Sollux crows, as he makes his way back to their little camp. “I totally beat him, did you guys see that?”

“No,” Tavros says, squinting up at him. Sollux scowls.

“I owned your brother, Tavvy,” he says.

“If you call me that one more time I’ll make you pay,” Tavros warns. Equius throws John a look, a don’t-worry-this-is-all-part-of-their-flirting look, and John grins back at him. He likes Equius, Tavros, Rufioh and Sollux; they’re entertaining, genuine and kind people.

“…Tavvy,” Sollux says, with a shit-eating grin which immediately turns into a piercing shriek as the smaller man gets up from the ground and runs towards him with lightning speed that John hadn’t expected. Tavros manages to wrestle Sollux to the ground, straddling him and pinning his wrists to the floor so that he can’t move at all. John’s pretty sure he’s never seen as much lust in anyone’s eyes as there is in Sollux’s right now.

“You wanna call me that one more fucking time?” Tavros hisses, but there’s no heat behind his words, just some kind of lustful fire in his eyes.

“Are they fucking?” John whispers to Equius. Equius rolls his eyes.

“We’ve been telling them to get a move on for years, but, no,” he says.

“Three o’clock,” Rufioh says suddenly, and everyone freezes. Tavros barely has time to roll off of Sollux, cap falling off in the process, before Dave, Cronus, Eridan and Rose round the corner of the building, swaggering along the path.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Tavros hisses, shoving his cap back on. “They never come around here.”

“John,” Dave says as they draw closer. “Hanging around with faggots now, are you?”

“If I wanted that, I’d hang around with you,” John shoots back with a glare. Dave’s eyebrows narrow.

“You want to be careful,” Dave says. “I don’t think you understand how stuff works around here.”

“I think I do,” John says. “You bully innocent people and get your gang of lunatics to do the job for you.” He throws an apologetic glance at Rose, who’s standing behind Eridan, a book in her hand – he likes Rose well enough; he doesn’t include her in the ‘gang of lunatics’.

“That reminds me…” Dave says smoothly. “How did you get out of that room, Tavros?” Rose’s face contorts into a panic and she glances pleadingly at John. John’s nod is barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it – he’ll take the blame.

“How did he get in there?” John asks, just as smoothly. “What had he done?”

“Does that concern you, John?” Dave asks. John looks as if he’s considering for a moment, exaggerating the expression to mock Dave.

“Yes, actually, it does,” he says. “Because he’s my friend.” Dave laughs shrilly.

“Oh, pity-friendships,” he says in his velvety voice. “So sweet.”

“Better than friendships built on fear,” John fires back, throwing a meaningful glance at Cronus and Eridan, flanking Dave. Dave narrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms.

“I’ve put up with you long enough,” he says in a bored tone. “Take him away.”

“No,” Rose blurts, and Dave turns to look at her, clearly taken aback.

“What?” he asks. Rose stands, arms crossed over her chest.

“You locked him in there all of yesterday, David. Come on, you’ve got better things to do,” she says matter-of-factly. Dave’s silent for a moment – John can’t see his face, because he’s facing away from them – but he seems to give in.

“Let none say I am not merciful,” Dave says with a gracious smirk. John rolls his eyes.

“Let none say you’re not full of yourself either,” he says.

“Watch it,” Dave says dangerously.

“All I want to watch right now is you leave,” John says. Dave raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, I am looking forward to tomorrow,” he says, and with one last smirk in John’s direction he turns on his heel and saunters away, his posse following him like faithful hounds. John stares after them until they’re gone, and then turns back to his new friends and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Woah,” Tavros says, with awe in his voice. He’s still lying on the ground next to Sollux, hair tousled and a shocked expression on his face. “Man.”

“Dude,” Equius says.

“Shit,” Rufioh says. John frowns.

“What?” he asks, wondering if he had suddenly sprouted wings or an extra set of arms.

“I’ve never seen anyone talk to Dave like that,” Tavros says.

“Yeah, and he actually backed off?” Equius says. “Like, that’s unheard of.”

“Well, it was because of Rose,” John mutters. He can feel himself flushing red; great, just what he needs right now.

“But still,” Tavros says. “I mean, you just…you owned him.”

“Yeah, but he’s going to get me tomorrow,” John points out. His stomach drops at the mere thought of it. Locking him in a darkened room for six hours was bad enough; what are they going to do tomorrow? He’s had his fair share of beatings, sure – he has the scars and still-fading bruises to show it – but that doesn’t mean he’s up for another just yet. They don’t get any better the more he gets, just a little easier to endure.

“Whatever, John,” Rufioh says. “That was amazing. You’re going to be our gang leader.” There’s a collective groan from Sollux, Tavros and Equius.

“We are not a gang,” Sollux says.

“This isn’t a gang,” Equius says.

“What the hell would our gang name even be?” Tavros demands.

“The Sexicans,” Rufioh grins widely. Tavros stares at him in disbelief.

“Okay, one – that is the least threatening gang name I have heard. Ever. Ever. The motherfucking sexi- whatever. And two, half of us aren't even Mexican.”

“The Sexicasians, fuck, I don’t know,” Rufioh says, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Cauxicans,” Sollux offers, and Tavros throws him a glare. “What?” he says, holding his hands up defensively.

“We’re not a gang, Rufioh,” Equius says. “When are you going to get that into your head?”

“We could be,” Rufioh says sadly. “The Prospit Mafia.”

“You’re getting more and more ridiculous every day,” Tavros says, shaking his head. “No wonder Dad thinks you’re a crack addict.”

“Dad thinks I’m a crack addict?” Rufioh says, scandalised.  
-  
John ends up not going to any more lessons that day anyway, choosing instead to hang out at the back with Tavros, Sollux, Equius and Rufioh. Tavros and Sollux spend most of their time bantering flirtatiously; Equius most of his shaking his head at them, and Rufioh most of his time asking John weird questions and talking at a hundred miles an hour.

The bell rings for the end of the day and that’s when John realises that in two days at this school he’s only actually attended one lesson, which makes him feel kind of bad. He’s not going to achieve anything if he keeps skipping lessons, but he’s not going to achieve anything that makes him happy if he goes to them. It’s a difficult balance.

He’s about to walk out of the building when he remembers the key burning a hole in his pocket, and practically sprints to the library to find Rose. She’s not there – just John’s luck, of course she won’t be – and John swears under his breath, trying the room him and Tavros had been locked in. No one’s in there, let alone Rose – of course, why would she be, it’s Dave’s punishment room, and Rose’s Dave’s sister.

Rose sighs and gives up, trudging out of school and into the car park, which he has to walk through to get out. He spots Rose leaning against the hood of a car and perks up – maybe Lady Luck is actually starting to pity him – when Dave ambles out of another door in the building, heading for the same car, and John scowls. How is Rose going to get her key back now?

It’s too late to turn away, however – both Rose and Dave have spotted him. Rose waves him over sweetly, Dave simply glares at him. He doesn’t seem to want to try anything with only Rose and no Cronus or Eridan – predictable, of course, most bullies are nothing without backup.

“Hello,” Rose says as John draws nearer, hanging back a little because he doesn’t want to get too close to Dave. Dave’s not paying attention to him anyway, tapping away on his iPhone. “Have you…?” John nods, slipping it into Rose’s outstretched hand stealthily. Rose smiles at him and puts it into her own pocket, patting it to make sure it’s there.

John’s about to turn on his heel and leave when Rose speaks.

“Hey,” she says. “You should come over and watch movies with me.”

“I don't really like movies,” John says, looking for any excuse to get out of getting in a tiny metal box with Dave. He’s not, but he doesn’t want to be in Dave’s house. Even if he does like Rose.

“You've got to be joking,” Rose rolls her eyes. "Come on, just a couple of hours. We’ll take you home afterwards.” John doesn’t want to mention that won’t be necessary, he can probably see his house from theirs – Dave’ll get Cronus and Eridan to egg it or something.

“I really shouldn’t-“ John says, but suddenly someone’s jerking on his hand and he’s being pulled along to the sleek black vehicle. “No, Rose, I-“ he tries, but Rose doesn’t listen.

“I’m not taking him with us,” Dave says, looking up from his texting to throw John a dirty look. He’s kind of hot, John notices, and immediately shakes the thought out of his head. Nope. Rose’s much better looking, clearly. Rose is a girl, remember?

“Good, because I don’t want to be with you,” John snarls, wrenching his hand out of Rose’s grip. Rose rolls her eyes.

“Can you two stop acting like seven year olds?” she demands. “Fucking hell David, I’m not forcing him to have sex with you or anything. Just take him with us; we’ll stay out of your way.” Something passes over Dave’s face, but after a moment he nods curtly.

“Get in,” he says shortly, climbing in himself. Rose winks at John and walks briskly around to the other side of the car. John smiles weakly, trying and failing to disguise the fuck fuck fuck that’s chorusing in his head.   
-  
The car ride is utterly silent. Even Rose senses the atmosphere is not one that will be diffused by speech, so they all stare stonily out of their respective windows until they arrive at Dave and Rose’s house.

“Out,” Dave says in a clipped tone, and both Rose and John tumble inelegantly out of the car, which is surprising for Rose. Dave stalks into the house without a single glance back, and Rose shakes her head.

“Don’t mind him,” she says.

“He’s such a dick sometimes,” John says.

“Try having him as a brother,” Rose says, and they both laugh.

They watch movies for the next few hours, Con Air and then some of Rose's weird gay wizard movies. All too soon, however, he looks out of the window and realises it’s pitch black. He has to get home; not that anyone will be worrying, but it’s best he gets home before Jade goes to bed, because Jade likes to know John’s in the house before she goes to sleep.

“Shit, I have to go,” John says, jumping up off the couch.

“Fuck you,” Rose says. "Go away. Never darken my door again.”

“You’ll be begging for me back tomorrow,” John says with a grin, and Rose sighs.

“Probably,” she says. “Only to beat you with my good taste in movies. Yours suck.”

“The good taste in movies that you have yet to discover,” John says, grabbing his coat. “Thanks for…y’know. It was nice.” And it had been, he’s not lying – it was nice, like it was with Tavros and the others, to just sit and have a laugh and a bit of banter. It’s a shame Rose has such a twat of a brother.

“Fuck you,” Rose repeats, but she’s laughing. “Yeah, same. I don’t really, you know. Friends.”

“You should come and sit with us tomorrow,” John invites, unsure whether it’s his place to or not, but going for it anyway. “You’ll get on with everyone.” Rose looks tempted.

“I would, but…” she jerks her head upstairs. “Dave.”

“Can’t you get shot of him just one lunch?” John asks, and Rose sighs.

“I’ll see,” she says, but she sounds unsure.

“I’d better go, then,” John says, kind of subdued. He wants Rose to have friends, although he’s not really sure why. He’s never been bothered about himself not having any friends, so why does it bother him that Rose has none?

He knows why. Because it will aggravate Dave.

He pushes the thought of why are you doing everything you can to annoy that boy to the back of his mind, not wanting to consider the possibilities, and follows Rose out of the room into the hallway.

“Anyway,” Rose says polietly. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No,” John says. “I live just down the road.”

And as if out of nowhere, Dave appears, leaning over the banister.

“Down the road?” he says, sounding interested. “Posh boy, right? Son of the CEO of some law firm and the grandson of the owner of Betty Crocker. Multi-millionaire family.” John wishes Dave would shut his mouth, for various reasons. Now Rose’s only going to want to be friends with him for his money. Great.

“Fuck you,” he hisses up at Dave, and Dave grins widely.

“Interesting,” he says, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone.

“He does that,” Rose says. “It’s annoying. Anyway, I'll be seeing you,” John waves at her, thankful she made no comment about what Dave had said, and walks off down the street and to his house, hands in his pockets as he makes his way through the darkness.

“Hey,” he calls to Kanaya and Jade, who are watching TV in the cinema room. He climbs the glass staircase that leads to his room – secluded from the rest of the house, just like he’d requested – and flops down onto his bed.

There’s something about Dave that makes him a permanent thought in John’s mind, although mostly it’s about how much John wants to punch him.

He groans, rolling over, unable to get the blonde-haired bastard out of his mind. He is so screwed.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated! <3


	3. You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo shit is happening up in here!!!  
> scandalous

John actually attends some lessons the next day – some being the operative word. He wonders when (if) he’ll actually make it through a full day. He guesses he’s lucky in that most of his teachers don’t seem to know he exists, and when he does waltz into their classrooms they choose not to acknowledge his existence anyway.

It’s break now, though, and he’s managed to avoid the Dave Clique all day so far, something which he’s relatively proud of. He’s not been too keen to cross paths with them, especially after the odd threat Dave made yesterday.

“I had the worst French lesson ever,” Tavros scowls as he walks over, throwing his books and bag rather violently to the ground. It must have been pretty terrible, because all the sheets fly out of his French folder and Tavros throws himself face-first to the floor and makes a strangled noise of discontent.

“What happened?” Equius asks, looking concerned.

“Who cares?” Rufioh says. Tavros lifts his head long enough to throw him a glare.

“I hate you,” he proclaims. “You’re the worst brother ever. Ever. If brotherliness could be measured on a scale, Sam and Dean Winchester would be at the top and you wouldn’t even be on the scale, that’s how shit you are as a brother. All you do is masturbate and text me from your room because you’re too lazy to cook for yourself.”

“I get you alcohol,” Rufioh points out. Tavros has to concede there.

“I could get my own alcohol,” he grumbles, and Rufioh snorts.

“Yeah, of course you could, Shorty,” Rufioh says, and Tavros sits up, throwing a handful of grass at his brother.

“Do you have a brother?” he asks John. “Because if you do, I hope to hell he’s better than that twat.”

“No, but I have a cousin who lives with me,” John says, smiling involuntarily. “Jade.”

“Aw!” Equius says, grinning as he hugs his knees to his chest. "Cousins are awesome.” Sollux snorts, ripping some grass out lazily from where he’s lying on his chest.

“You have no idea how creepy that sounded,” he says, and Equius scowls. He’s about to retaliate when John spots someone standing at the corner of the building.

“Rose?” he calls, and the person starts in shock. “Come over.” Rose walks hesitantly towards the group, hanging back a little and not getting too close.

“Hello,” she says, smiling. Tavros turns to look at John, a look (a look) on his face.

“Isn’t she Dave’s sister?” Tavros hisses, and John nods.

“She’s cool though, I promise,” he says. “I went to her house yesterday and watched some movies. Her movies suck.” Tavros’s lips quirk into a smile at that, and it takes him mere milliseconds before he’s nodding his head and turning back to Rose.

“Hey, come sit,” he says, patting the space between him and Sollux. Sollux scoots up so he’s practically lying on Tavros. “Okay, maybe not here then,” Tavros says, trying to sound annoyed, but the effect is completely lost by the huge grin he’s sporting. Rose lingers for a moment before walking over and sitting down in the now huge gap between John and Sollux.

“Rose, right?” Tavros says, and Rose nods. “You’re in my Maths class; I know you.”

“I’m sorry for intruding,” Rose says, and Sollux throws some more grass at Rufioh idly.

“Nah, don’t be,” he says. “John says your movie choices are shit.”

“They are not,” Rose says angrily, throwing John a glare. “Wizard movies aren't the slightest bit shitty.”

“They aren't the slightest bit shit, as in they are very much shit?” John says, grinning as he dodges a slap to the arm.

“Can you stop throwing shit at me?” Rufioh demands. Sollux shrugs, throwing some more grass at him.

“No,” he says. “I’ve already eaten my food. Grass will have to do for now.”

“Tell him to stop,” Rufioh says to Rose. Rose looks slightly overwhelmed and throws John an embarrassed look, so John steps in.

“Guys, why don’t we introduce ourselves to Rose?” he says. Rose looks relieved.

“I’m Tavros, as you know,” Tavros says. “I run this hood.”

“I’m Rufioh,” Rufioh says. “I’m Tavros’s brother, and I’m still trying to get us to become the Sexicans.”

“We will never become the Sexicans. And if we do, we’ll kick you out, because you’re not sexy. I’m Sollux, by the way, the coolest bro to hang in this group,” Sollux says, throwing a dimpled grin in Rose’s direction.

“I’m Equius,” Equius says. “I'm single.” Equius and Rose share a grin.

“Welcome to your new friendship group,” Sollux exclaims. “You can’t get away from us now. Especially Tavvy.” Rose looks stuck somewhere between overjoyed and ridiculously terrified, and John’s about to say something when Tavros mounts Sollux again at lightning speed.

“Are you going to stop calling me motherfucking Tavvy or am I going to have to stop you myself?” he yells, pinning a struggling Sollux down.

“Are they…?” Rose whispers to John, Equius and Rufioh, her face a mixture of glee and something that can only be described as evil. Equius shakes his head with a sigh.

“Hopefully soon, though,” he says. “It’s been years of this ridiculous flirting.” He bites his lip after a moment. “You’re not going to…tell your brother, are you?” Rose shakes her head.

“Dave’s alright, you know,” she says with a sigh, picking at her nail. “I don’t know why he acts like such a dick at school. He’s lovely at home.”

“He wasn’t particularly pleasant yesterday,” John points out, remembering with a chill that the Dave Bitches are probably going to egg his house or something. Great.

“That’s because you were there,” Rose says. “He likes to act all tough around people.”

“He’s pretty lenient on John, though,” Tavros says. “I mean, I got locked in that fucking room for saying he looked a bit peaky. Just concerned for his health and all that, y’know.” Something about the smirk as he looks down at Sollux, whose head is resting on Tavros’ knee, says it was more than concern for Dan’s health.

“Sure,” Rose snorts, starting to ease up a bit. “I don’t know, he is acting a bit weird with John. Bipolar; he’ll be really horrible one minute, and really lenient the next. I might ask him about it.”

“He’s probably jealous of my epic movie-choice skills,” John proclaims. “That’s it, I figured it out.” But something about what Rose says, that even Rose is admitting there’s something weird about the way Dave is treating John nags at him. Maybe Dave can’t get John out of his mind either. Maybe Dave wants to punch John all the time too. It wouldn’t surprise anyone.

“Con Air is far from epic,” Rose grins.

“Oh shut it, Mrs. Gay Wizard Movies," John says, laughing.

“We should have another movie weekend,” Rufioh exclaims, dodging another clump of grass that Sollux chucks in his direction. “What the fuck is with you throwing shit at me?” he demands.

“Yeah, it’s going all over me. If you’re going to throw stuff, can you learn to fucking aim,” Equius says irritably, brushing grass off his shirt.

“Are we going to our next lesson?” Tavros asks. Everyone quickly glances around the circle.

“I’m alright,” Sollux says.

“I’d rather not,” Equius declines politely.

“I’m good here,” Rufioh says decidedly.

“I’ve got more French,” Tavros says with a shudder, making everyone laugh. John throws a quick sideways glance at Rose to see she’s laughing too, and a weird tingly king of warmth spreads through his entire body. He feels…well, he feels good, having done something to make someone else happy. It’s a weird feeling, but not one he thoroughly dislikes.   
_  
They skip the next two lessons, lazing around on the grass in the autumn sun.

“Do you think I can get a tan?” Rufioh asks, lying down and squinting upwards.

“You’re Mexican,” Tavros says. “If you get any more tanned, you’ll become…very tanned. Like burnt toast.”

“Thanks for that,” Rufioh says sarcastically. “I don’t want to lose my tan over winter, though, y’know? What if I turn…beige?”

“The Beige Mexican,” Tavros says, giggling as he dodges a punch from Rufioh.

“Sounds ominous,” Equius says.

“It will be if Tavros carries on like that,” Rufioh says, glowering at Tavros.

“Carries on like what?” a voice says, and everyone whips around to see Dave standing above them, grinning down at them, Cronus and Eridan flanking him as ever (John is convinced they’re robots. No humans could ever be that obedient).

“None of your business,” Tavros snaps, looking shocked as soon as the words have left his mouth, as if he can’t believe he just said them.

“Watch that pretty little mouth of yours, Tavros,” Dave says smoothly. “You want to be careful what comes out of it. Or goes in…” he adds, throwing an almost bored glance at Sollux. Both of them look horrified.

“What do you want?” John asks in a long-suffering tone.

“I want to know what you did to get my sister to hang out with you,” Dave says, crossing his arms.

“We treated her like a person,” John says shortly. “Is that all? You can leave now.”

“Oh, that’s not all,” Dave says. “I’d like to speak to you, John.”

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say here,” John says defiantly. Dave raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow (he must pluck them).

“I don’t think what I have to say concerns anyone else here, nor should it,” he says. “I know where we can go.”

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” John demands. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” Dave allows with a shark-like grin. “Cronus, Eridan, stay here. I’ll be back before you know it.” Cronus and Eridan nod – of course they nod, they’re Dave’s bitches – and John throws a helpless look around the circle. Tavros and Rose shrug; Rufioh and Equius shake their heads with wide eyes and Sollux’s still glowering at Dave.

“Fine,” John says, going against the ninety-nine percent of him that is shrieking what the fuck are you doing get as far away from him as you possibly can rent an aeroplane and fly to California and standing up, brushing the stray grass that has flown at him (thanks, Sollux) off his shirt.

“I may be crazy, but you’re the one following the crazy man,” Dave says as he strides away, loud enough for everyone to hear. John scowls and keeps his distance, not trusting Dave one bit. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, following Dave. Dave might rape him. He should turn around right now, head back to the safety of his friends.

But he doesn’t.

It is our choices, Harry, that show us who we truly are.

So clearly John is a stark raving lunatic. That’s just great.

“Where are we going?” John asks suspiciously as they draw closer to the school building. They’re all meant to be in lessons right now, so all the corridors are deserted. Dave steps inside, holding the door open for John. John waits for Dave to let it swing shut with a meaningful look; he’s not going to get too close to Dave, or Dave’s going to do something bad. Dave rolls his eyes but lets the door bang shut. John opens it immediately and follows Dave, up endless winding staircases and down panelled corridors until they’re eventually standing in a spacious room that seems to be in total disuse.

“What’s this? Why are we here? Why am I here?” John demands, and Dave grins.

“So, John,” he says casually, leaning against the wall. “I spoke to some buddies from your old school.” John blanches. What had Dave found out?

“And?” he says. He hadn’t done anything really bad, right? His mind is suddenly in overdrive, mentally listing every miniscule thing he had done at that school over the numerous years he had spent behind its bars (metaphorically).

“And they seemed to all think there was something very interesting about your…sexuality,” Dave says, and John breathes a sigh of relief.

“Is that all?” he says. “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Wow, call the newspapers, boy is sexually attracted to girls and boys. It’ll be a cover story. Top scoop. Can I go now?”

“I don’t think so,” Dave says, with that annoying smirk still plastered on his face, and John frowns.

“Why? You got what you came for,” he says, confused.

“I don’t think I got it,” Dave says.

“What do you want?” And Dave’s moving closer, still smirking, and John’s backing away, but he suddenly feels the cold hard wall against his back and he can’t back away any further and he doesn’t want this, not with Dave, he doesn’t want anything with Dave, he just wants to get away…

But Dave doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, so close that John can feel his body heat and his breath, but doesn’t do anything. John almost wishes he would, just to relieve the tension and suspense in the atmosphere. Dave seems to get off on it though, because he stays there a few more tantalising moments before backing away with a soft, huffed laugh.

“Interesting,” he says, and then he walks out of the room.

John has literally no idea what just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for reading! feedback is appreciated~


	4. Ibuprofen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo another chapter,  
> i didnt think i would get this many comments lol  
> thank you a lot! ^-^  
> also tw; there is mentions of self harm so if you do not like to hear of that pls click off :c  
> thank you <3

The next two days pass uneventfully. Sollux throws shit at Rufoh, Rufioh yells at Sollux some more, Sollux calls Tavros Tavvy, Tavros yells at Sollux some more, Equius shakes his head at them all some more, Rose laughs at them all and John sits there grinning at everything. It’s odd to have an actual group of friends – he wasn’t expecting them to turn out as friends. He was expecting it to be maybe a break, lunch thing, and then he’d be off again, excluding himself. After all, when Tavros offered for him to sit with them at lunch, it was only polite.

Now, however, it’s Friday night (or rather, Saturday morning), and John’s locked up in his own corner of the house listening to music at volumes no one else would consider acceptable. He’s got some vodka and he’s sipping from it, wincing every time the liquid slips down his throat, scratching and burning as it goes, but still drinking more and more until he can barely see straight. It makes him feel better, emptier yet fuller, more numb than ever yet bursting with emotions. It’s more than liquid confidence; it’s liquid life.

He vaguely registers a weird ringing that’s hurting his ears – make it stop – but doesn’t get up to look for the source of it. He feels impenetrable right now, as if he’s surrounded by a nice fluffy cloud that no one can pierce.

The ringing starts up again, and John whimpers in frustration. It hurts. He decides to look for the source of this hellish noise, pushing himself off the floor and taking a moment to balance. Woah. Was the room always this…spinny?

He finds it eventually – his phone – and presses a few buttons randomly, trying to shut the damn thing up. It works, but some other noise filters into his ear – a boy’s voice, speaking slowly and giggling a lot, slurring his words.

“Wassup?” John says, steadying himself on the desk as his vision blurs again.

“Can…can we come in?” the person says, and John nods. He doesn’t realise they can’t see him.

“Yeah,” he says. “Come in.”

“Door,” the voice says. “Locked.”

“Oh,” says John. “One…one minute.” He puts the phone down on the table, not even hanging up, just leaving it there. He doesn’t think about it, wrenching the door open and stumbling down numerous staircases to reach the front door, pulling it open.

Outside are Tavros, Sollux, Rose, Rufioh and Equius.

“Guys,” John says, grinning. “Guys, and Rose.”

“Are you drunk?” Equius giggles. “Because I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk!” Tavros yells, and Sollux shushes him with a drunken finger to his lips.

“Don’t wanna get…get neighbours,” he says, frowning as he tries to string the words together, struggling with the polysyllabic ones.

“Can we come in?” Rufioh says in an exaggerated stage-whisper. John nods, already beginning to sober a little. He’s always been pretty good at handling his alcohol – he’s had years of practice, after all.

He steps aside and lets his own little posse inside (they are pretty sexy, he notes. Maybe he’ll have to take Rufioh up on that Sexican thing), waiting for them to gather in the hallway before shutting the front door.

“Your house is huge,” Equius says in awe, gazing at the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

“Don’t like it,” John says, starting up the stairs and ushering the others up too. They traipse along behind him, all the way to his room, where he shuts them all inside. As his house is pretty massive, his room is too – big enough to fit all six of them comfortably inside. Big enough for them all to sleep in, even.

“Your room is huge,” Rose says. “When…when this house was being built, we all thought- we thought-“ she’s suddenly overcome with a fit of laughter, so John never finds out what everyone thought.

“I’m not as drunk now,” Tavros frowns. “I want to be more drunk.”

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Equius suggests. Rose nods enthusiastically.

“I hate truth or dare,” Rufioh moans.

“That’s- that’s because you always lose,” Tavros says.

“You can’t…you can’t lose truth or dare,” Rufioh says.

“You do,” Tavros says, and Sollux giggles.

“I feel-“ Rose says, but before she tells anyone what she feels she’s out, toppling backwards onto the floor with a loud snore. Everyone simply stares at her, watching her fall.

“Tired?” Equius supplies, and apparently that’s the funniest thing because John can’t stop laughing, tears of mirth falling form his eyes.

“I’m tired,” Rufioh complains, once they’ve all calmed down enough to form moderately coherent sentences.

“You all get tired when you’re drunk,” Tavros says. “That’s why we came here.”

“So you had somewhere to crash?” John asks.

“No, so I had some company. They drop like flies,” Tavros says, directing this at John.

“Can’t hold their booze?” John asks, his vision starting to get sharper again. His mind is clearing too – just what he doesn’t want – and he’s starting to feel a little more sober.

“Nope,” Tavros says, and John thinks the same is happening to him, because the drunken glaze in his eyes is slowly fading. “That’s…that’s why I never drink with them. Weaklings.” John huffs out a laugh, noting that Rufioh’s passed out too now.

“Guys,” Equius says. “I’m feeling a little-“

“Me too,” Sollux says, with a huge yawn.

“Is it always at the same time?” John asks Tavros. Tavros nods.

“Just as lightweight as each other,” he grumbles, using the bottle of beer he’s got in his hand to push Sollux’s snoring head off his leg.

“Sucks,” John says, but he can’t deny that it’s nice to have company in his drunkenness. It definitely beats being drunk at home alone every weekend (and most weekdays).

“I wish Sollux wasn’t this bad,” Tavros says sadly, nudging Sollux’s head with his beer bottle again. John frowns.

“Why don’t you date him?” he asks.

“I’m scared,” Tavros admits. “This way, I can still protect myself from getting hurt. At least a little bit. I- I’m not very good at dealing with hurt.”

“What do you mean?” John asks. Tavros sighs, casting his eyes down at the beer bottle in his hands, as if it will save him from himself, as if he’s wishing it would. John supposes that’s what he is wishing; that’s what John wishes, whenever he picks up the bottle, tries to numb himself. If he’s numb, he won’t be himself.

“I mean…” Tavros says, but he trails off, still avoiding John’s gaze. John shuffles a little closer, sitting cross-legged directly opposite Tavros.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You can tell me.”

“Can I…can I…” Tavros doesn’t seem to be able to get the words out of his mouth. “Can I…show you, instead?” John’s confused, but nods; what does Tavros mean?

Tavros looks nervously at the others to make sure they’re all actually sleeping – judging from the orchestra of snores, they definitely are – and starts rolling up his sleeve.

There, on his arm, are countless little scars, riddling his skin, laddered all the way up his arm.

“Don’t hate me,” Tavros whispers. “It’s how I cope.”

“I don’t hate you,” John says slowly, still gazing at the scars. Something’s twisting inside him, something unpleasant that’s making him want to kiss the scars, hug Tavros, do something to help. But he doesn’t; he doesn’t move a muscle.

“I’m sorry,” Tavros says, snatching his arm away and rolling his sleeve back down. “Pretend…pretend you didn’t see that.” But John can’t pretend that.

“I can’t,” John says honestly. “Does…does Sollux know? Rufioh?” Tavros shakes his head.

“No one,” he says. “They’d hate me. They’d think I was weak. I’m meant to be there for them, y’know? I’m their rock. If they see that I’m weak, they won’t lean on me anymore. And then they’ll be weak.”

“You need someone too,” John points out.

“Not as much as they need me,” Tavros says, and that makes John’s heart break. That, that Tavros doesn’t value himself enough to owe himself at least a little care and love, that hurts.

“I’ll be your rock,” John says decidedly. “I’ll be there for you, Tavros. You’re not alone, okay?”

And something - he doesn’t know what - but something makes him kiss Tavros, square on the lips, soft warmth against soft warmth. And Tavros doesn’t pull away.  
-  
The morning is punctuated by moans and groans and the occasional ‘I’m gonna-‘ before someone dashes to John’s ensuite bathroom to throw up. John’s so fucking glad his room is as far away from everyone else’s as it’s possible to be – there’s no way Kanaya would have been able to ignore five strange boys in the house if they had been within earshot of any other room. John’s pretty sure his dad installed a soundproof door when they were having this place built; his door definitely feels a lot sturdier than all the others around the house.

John goes down and gets them all some snacks for breakfast, anything he can get into his arms – biscuits, crisps, salami, bread, anything – and heads back upstairs, throwing it all on the floor for everyone to take their pick from. He’s lucky he doesn’t get hungover anymore; and apparently, Tavros’s the same, dishing out water half-sympathetically to his friends and brother (although the latter is far more reluctant and much more gleeful). He throws a smile at Tavros, who grins shyly back – does he remember their conversation last night? John remembers it clear as day, remembers the scars, remembers the kiss. He wonders whether Tavros’s thinking about it too.

“I’m going to go down to the shop and buy some more paracetamol,” John announces at about midday. There’s empty Ibuprofen and Nurofen packets strewn all over his carpet, and none left for a moaning Rose to take.

“Can I have Calpol instead?” Equius asks weakly. John grins.

“Sure thing, Captain,” he says. “Tavros, look after them whilst I’m gone? I won’t be long.” Tavros looks at him and smiles, and something about that look says he remembers last night too. John throws him another smile and hurries out, rushing down the stairs and not even bothering to put a proper coat on before leaving the house.

He ambles down the street with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what the hell happened last night. Tavros self-harms; that much is clear, but why? What’s the reason for it? And he said – in a roundabout way, yes – that he wants to date Sollux, but he’s scared. And then John had kissed him. Why had he kissed Tavros? He doesn’t even like Tavros, really. He doesn’t know how he feels about Tavros, but Equius said Tavros and Sollux had been flirting for years. So why hadn’t Tavros pulled away? If he wants Sollux…but doesn’t that mean John's essentially leading Tavros on?

He’s jerked out of his thoughts by a soft chuckle.

“John,” a slightly Texan voice says, and John looks up to see Dave standing there. He’s unflanked this time – for once – and the way the sun is shining down on him makes his skin look almost golden. John wonders idly if Tavros’s skin would look golden in this light.

“What do you want?” John says. He’s not in the mood to talk to Dave, especially not in broad daylight on a street where anyone could see them. And by anyone he means Cronus and Eridan.

“A word,” Dave says nonchalantly.

“You’ve had three. Daily limit is up. Move; I’m getting stuff for my friends,” John says. Dave grins.

“You want to watch that sass,” Dave says. “It’s going to get you in serious trouble someday.”

“Yeah?” John says, challenging. “I’ll wait for that day to come. Right now, I’d like you to fucking move.” He’s not in the mood for Dave’s bullshit games.

“How about you say the magic word?” Dave says, inching closer. John stands his ground; Dave doesn’t scare him.

He does, however, do weird things to John’s heartbeat.

“Avada Kedavra?” John offers, and Dave chuckles again.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he says.

“On the contrary. I know I’m funny,” John says, crossing his arms. “Can I go now?”

“Oh, John,” Dave says, shaking his head. “I don’t think you understand how this works.”

“Oh?” John says. “Please teach me, O Master of all.” He realises as soon as the words leave his mouth that that was the wrong thing to say, so wrong, because suddenly there’s a strong hand on the small of his back and another on his waist and he’s being pulled right up against Dave, so close that John can feel every inch of his body beneath his own.

“Let go of me!” John says, writhing in Dave’s grasp, but Dave’s hold is stronger than John’s will to struggle.

“Are you sure you want that?” Dave whispers, his breath ghosting over the shell of John’s ear. John shivers involuntarily. That’s an…odd feeling. Odd, but as much as he wants to say it’s unpleasant, he can’t deny it turns him on a little bit. But only because it’s sensitive; not because it’s Dave. Never because it’s Dave.

“Yes,” John spits, wrenching himself out of Dave’s grasp. Dave lets him go – John’s pretty sure Dave would have been able to anchor him there if he wanted to – with that infuriating smirk on his face.

“Just what I thought,” he says, and just like Wednesday, he’s gone without another word.

John doesn’t know what to think anymore. On the one hand, he’s got Dave, acting in the weirdest way of anyone he’s ever known, ever. And on the other hand, he’s got Tavros, safe, secure, probably hopelessly in love with Sollux. And he doesn’t want to hurt Tavros.

But he doesn’t want to hurt himself either. And that’s an odd feeling, because he hasn’t cared about himself in so long he’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be him.

He forgets the Ibuprofen.


	5. he felt his heart break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another chapter! :)))  
> enjooyyy. <3

John’s friends don’t leave on Saturday. Kanaya gets a huge shock when she calls John down to lunch and instead gets a group of six traipsing tiredly downstairs, pale and hungover.

“Sorry,” John says apologetically, but Kanaya waves it away, bustling around fetching more plates and glasses. Tavros, Sollux, Rufioh, Rose and Equius look slightly overwhelmed by John’s house, now that they’re sober – they hang around awkwardly, looking like they don’t want to besmirch the air by breathing too much.

“Sit down,” Kanaya says bossily, but not unkindly, and all the boys (and Rose) take a chair uneasily. Rose smiles at Kanaya, and starts to ask her all sorts of questions about her day, and how she starting housekeeping for John's family.

After about ten minutes, Kanaya sighs. “John, would you go fetch Jade?”

“Where is she?” John asks.

“Cinema room,” she says, and Equius inhales excitedly. John nods and walks off, Rose and Kanaya resuming conversation, ambling to the cinema room and finding Jade still in her pyjamas, watching some shitty cartoon on TV. John clicks it off, much to Jade’s protest.

“Come to lunch,” John coaxes, and Jade shakes her head.

“Your friends are here,” she says, trying to smile. “I wouldn't want to disturb anything.”

“They’re lovely, I promise,” John says. “Come on, don’t you want to eat?”

“But-“

“But nothing, Jade, come on,” John says, hauling Jade off the sofa and carrying her, laughing and squealing, into the dining room. When he puts Jade down, relatively out of breath (Jade definitely isn't small), Jade crosses his arms and tries to look angry.

“I can walk,” she says, poking her tongue out at him. John grins, ruffling Jade’s hair.

“Come on, sit down,” he says, doing just that himself, next to Tavros. Tavros grins at him, and John half-accidentally brushes his arm against Tavros’s, causing a slight red tint to appear in his tanned cheeks. John hides his smile by turning to look at Jade again, who’s looking at Tavros and John suggestively, as if she knows what’s going on.

“This is Jade,” John says, and Jade waves at everyone, beaming.

“I like your pyjamas,” says Equius. Jade beams at him.

“You like Squiddles?” she asks.

“We all do,” Sollux says. Jade turns back to John.

“I like your friends,” she says decisively, and everyone laughs.  
-  
Everyone ends up staying the night again, this time with actual mattresses laid out by Kanaya.

(“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming last night?” Kanaya asks tiredly, plumping up a few pillows.

“I didn’t know!” John says. “They arrived at about three in the morning.” Kanaya looks at him disapprovingly, but says nothing else – she knows what he does, and she lets him get on with it. That’s one of the many reasons he loves her.)

“Man, can we move in?” Sollux asks, laying down on his mattress. “This is comfy as fuck.”

“And your cousin is super cute,” Equius says enthusiastically. Equius’s been so taken with Jade that they spent three hours watching The Squddles Show in the cinema room, discussing gardening and various other things. John’s pretty sure they’ve just become best friends.

“In front of other people,” John says ruefully, although he can’t deny that Jade is a wonderful cousin most of the time.

“Whatever,” Rose says. “She’s better a better cousin than my brother.”

“That’s ‘cause Jade isn’t a bully,” Rufioh says. Rose sighs, staring up at the ceiling from her makeshift bed.

“He never used to be like this,” she says dejectedly. “He used to be a brother. We used to do stuff together, watch TV , go out, and now we barely even talk.” She sounds so miserable that Equius shuffles over from his bed and puts an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he says gently. “It’s okay. He’s just going through that dumb I-need-to-be-the-coolest-dickhead -in-school phase that everyone goes through.”

“I want my brother back,” Rose says, and there’s a kind of choked noise that sounds almost like a sob, and John, Rufioh, Tavros and Sollux exchange wide-eyes; they don’t know what to do.

Luckily for them, they’re spared from doing anything by Equius, who calms Rose and leads her quietly out of the room. Everyone else remains silent, listening to Equius and Rose talking in hushed voices in the corridor.

“I’m going to turn in, guys,” Sollux says, clearly uncomfortable at eavesdropping. He still looks a bit green, as well; he didn’t eat much at dinner. “I’m still feeling a bit ropey.”

“Me too,” Rufioh agrees, although his words are half-hidden by a yawn. John turns to look at Tavros expectantly, wondering whether he too will fall asleep.

“I’m not tired,” Tavros says, with a shy smile in John’s direction. John smiles back involuntarily; Tavros’s adorable, that much is undeniable, and pretty fucking gorgeous too, so he can’t not smile back. Plus, it would be rude.

They don’t say anything for a few minutes, waiting for Rufioh and Sollux’s breathing to even out (or in the case of Rufioh, turn into raucous snores).

“Thank you,” Tavros says, after what feels like forever. His voice penetrates the silence (or, thanks to Rufioh, relative silence) that has blanketed them, and it sounds odd for some reason. John probably needs to get his ears tested.

“For what?” John asks. He hasn’t done anything. He didn’t even remember the Ibuprofen, thanks to Dave.

No, not Dave. He doesn’t want to think about Dave. He’s here with his friends, with Tavros, and that’s what he should be focusing on. Not some school bully who intrigues him far too much for it to be considered healthy – or normal.

“Being there. Listening. Not…not judging me, or hating me.” Tavros shrugs, not meeting John’s eyes. John’s gaze strays to Tavros’s sleeve, just one thin layer of material that covers Tavros’s innermost secrets, his conflict and his pain, displayed on his skin, etched into it forever. It’s almost magical what clothes can conceal.

“Of course I wouldn’t judge you or hate you,” John says, as if it’s obvious. “That’s not…that’s not right.”

“Lots of people would," Tavros says quietly.

“I doubt it,” John says. “Why did you tell me before Sollux?”

“I was drunk,” Tavros says. “I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“So you regret it?” John asks. Tavros still doesn’t meet his gaze, and John hooks a finger under his chin, lifting it gently so Tavros has to look John in the eye.

“No,” Tavros says. “And that’s scary. It’s not my secret anymore. It’s…I’m not in control.”

“You weren’t in control in the first place,” John says softly. “It was.”

“I know,” Tavros says miserably.

John’s about to reply when he hears a noise, something clattering against his window. He frowns; who the fuck is throwing stones at his window? Unless a bird has just splattered against it.

“Hang on,” he says, getting up and stepping over Sollux and Rufioh’s sleeping forms to reach the window, wrenching the curtains open to see a figure standing in the dark outside.

“Who is it?” Tavros asks, hugging his legs to his chest protectively. John’s heart breaks a little; Tavros’s so perfect, so adorable, but he doesn’t even know it. John would give all he had for Tavros to see himself through John’s eyes – or even better, Sollux's.

“I can’t tell,” John says. “I’d better go down, anyway; I don’t want my window to shatter.” He’s only half-telling the truth when he says he can’t tell – he can’t, but he has a pretty good idea who it could be.

His worst fears are confirmed when he makes his way downstairs (past Equius still comforting a sobbing Rose) and pulls the front door open, a dark figure standing outside wearing an annoying, stupid smirk.

“What do you want?” John demands hotly. The nerve Dave has, turning up at his house in the small hours of the morning and throwing fucking stones at his window. How did Dave even know it’s his window? What was he planning on doing if it was Jade’s, or Kanaya’s, or some random room that no one uses?

“You,” Dave says simply, and John scowls, but steps outside and shuts the door.

“Stop being a dick,” he says. “Go back home. I don’t want you here.”

“You came outside,” Dave points out. “You could have shut the door in my face. You could have stayed inside, nice and cosy with Tavros.” John blanches, and Dave’s shades glint dangerously.

“Nothing’s going on between Tavros and me,” John says. Dave raises an eyebrow, barely visible under the weak orange glow the streetlight is providing, but still there.

“Of course,” he says, stringing out the words, and John feels guiltier than he ever has before.

What is he doing? He’s leading Tavros on, of course he is, and he knows he is, so why isn’t he stopping? He knows Tavros wants Sollux more, Tavros knows he wants Sollux more, so what are they doing? Sollux will get hurt if he finds out, yet for some reason John doesn’t want to stop. John…there’s something about Tavros. John’s not just attracted to him, he’s…well. He doesn’t really know. But it feels deeper than just attraction.

Then there are the ridiculous thoughts, the ones that bubble up when he’s at his drunkest and most emotionally vulnerable, the ones that tell him that yeah, maybe he finds Dave annoying, maybe he hates Dave’s guts, but there is an underlying attraction. Dave is pretty hot, after all, even if he is the biggest prick John’s ever had the displeasure of coming across.

The thoughts that are fucking wrong, John thinks, shoving that unpleasant reminder out of his mind.

“Oh,” Dave says softly. “Conflicted, are we?”

“About what?” John says irritably. “Can you leave me alone? Go home. I have better things to be doing.”

“Like Tavros Nitram?” John flushes. “I thought so.”

“I’m not- Tavros and me- we-“

“Save it,” Dave says, sounding bored. “I came for something else, anyway.”

“What, then, if not to taunt me?” John asks.

“I already told you,” Dave says. “You.”

“What do you want with me?” John asks tiredly. He isn’t in the mood to argue anymore. Thinking about Tavros has just made him feel sick and guilty and empty and he doesn’t really care what Dave wants anymore.

“Come with me,” Dave says, and John rolls his eyes but follows – albeit reluctantly – as Dave leads him out of the driveway and into the street bathed in harsh yellow and orange lights.

“Look up,” Dave says. “What do you see?”

“The sky,” John says. “The moon. Streetlights. What is this, your twisted idea of fun?”

“Streetlights,” Dave says, choosing to ignore John’s last comment. “The moon.”

“I just said that,” John says. “What’s all this about? Are you drunk?”

“Shut up,” Dave says idly. John scowls.

“I’m standing in the middle of a road with you, staring at some streetlights and the fucking moon,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“Can you see the stars?” Dave says.

“Of course not,” John says. “The streetlights are drowning them out.”

“Exactly,” Dave says.

“Exactly what?” John says.

“Sometimes, what seems brighter and closer and easier isn’t as perfect as what’s harder to get, but more beautiful. Sometimes, looking only at the bright thing obscures the beautiful thing. Sometimes, looking at the streetlights obscures the stars.” And now that John’s squinting, now that he can see it properly, he can actually make out some stars, glimmering distantly in the jet black blanket of the sky.

He turns to say something to Dave – he’s not really sure what, just something – but Dave’s gone. There’s no trace that he was ever there, just John staring up at the night sky on his own, staring past the streetlights and looking at the stars twinkling faintly in the distance.

He doesn’t know why Dave told him that, doesn’t know what made Dave decide to share that with him, doesn’t know why Dave wanted to help him, and doesn’t even know exactly what he’s intending for John to do with this information, but suddenly John knows what he has to do.

He traipses back inside, leaving the door open (he figures no one is going to break and enter at this time of night in this obscure corner of the neighbourhood) and quickly rushes up the stairs to his room. Tavros’s still sitting on the floor, but now Equius and Rose are lying down as well, snoring lightly. Tavros turns as John clicks the door open, and John beckons him out wordlessly, leading him downstairs and outside to the same spot Dave took him.

“Look up,” he instructs, and Tavros does so. “What can you see?”

“Not much,” Tavros says. “Orange and yellow glow from the streetlights. The moon, kind of. The sky.”

“Can you see the stars?” Tavros shakes his head.

“There’s too much light from the streetlights for that.”

“Exactly. The streetlights are drowning them out. The streetlights, brighter, closer, easier, are obscuring the stars, further away and harder to reach but much more beautiful, burn brighter and for longer. Sometimes our choices are like the streetlights and the stars, Tavros. Sometimes what might seem easier and glows brighter obstructs our view of what’s beautiful, what’s going to last and what burns brighter.” John pauses. “Can you see the stars now?” Tavros nods slowly, tearing his gaze away to look at John.

“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” John says, and Tavros nods again.

“I know. That doesn’t mean the streetlights aren’t helpful, though. They guide you home better than the stars do, shine brighter in your everyday life.”

“It’s not saying you can’t have both,” John says. “Just that you should choose the one you deserve.”

“I’m sorry,” Tavros whispers, and John shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says, and Tavros takes a hesitant step forwards, pressing their lips together for the second and last time. John relishes it, kissing back and letting his tongue tangle with Tavros’, wrapping his arms around Tavros’ neck as Tavros wraps his around John’s waist.

And there, under the streetlights and the stars, John feels his heart break for the first time.


	6. stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gay you guys  
> dave and john finally kiss you guys  
> you guys  
> gay

Sunday flies by way far too fast for John’s liking, and all too soon it’s time for school again, time for lessons (or rather, time for skipping lessons), time for his friends and time for Dave.

Fuck. Dave. John has been ignoring all thoughts of him that crop up in his mind (of which there are far too many far too often). There are so many fucking questions he needs answered.

He literally rolls out of bed on Monday morning, lying face down on the carpet for several minutes whilst he gathers the energy to haul himself up and away to get dressed.

And that is why he’s late every day.

His phone bleeps once and he reaches for it blearily, which basically consists of him moving his hand around until it clasps around something phone-shaped. He lifts it and sees he has a new text from Tavros and a missed call from Tavros. And an email from Oxfam, the title of which is ‘Ants and taxes’. He’s tempted to open it just because of the title. Maybe they’re starting to tax ants. That would be an interesting move.

Instead, however, he throws his phone down on his bed whilst he throws his clothes on haphazardly and brushes his hair once, attempting to make himself look more presentable by brushing his hair across his face. The more of his face that is covered, the better he looks, right? He might as well just become a professional yeti.

He takes the stairs two at a time downstairs, attempting to wake himself up a little more by forcing himself to do exercise. His body protests, however, and by the time he reaches the bottom he barely has enough energy to drag himself into the kitchen and flop down at the table opposite his ever-cheery cousin.

“How are you this happy in the morning?” John grumbles, letting his head fall onto the table. It’s much more comfortable this way.

“Because I have something to get up for,” Jade says simply, and John frowns into the glass of the table, steaming it up a little with his breath.

“So do I,” John says, looking at his watch through the foggy glass of the table. “School.” He hasn’t even had time to eat breakfast before he’s hauling himself up from the table again and heaving himself out of the door.

Oh, fuck, he’s got to fucking jump fences and streams and shit.

John groans, closing his eyes and turning his head up to the weak autumn sun. He doesn’t want this.  
-  
He makes it to school on time for the first time in approximately three years. He’s not just on time, he’s five minutes early, so he slopes up the path to school as slowly as he possibly can, Jade’s words echoing in his head.

Jade is right. John has nothing to get up for in the mornings. Sure, he has his friends – he has Tavros – but that’s not enough, not enough to make him want to get up. He’s not sure anything ever will be, if he’s honest, but that’s mainly because having to get up at seven thirty is quite possibly the work of Satan.

“John!” Rose smiles, beckoning him over as he finally saunters into the building, choosing to walk around to the back and the grassy area his little gang (he can’t keep calling them his friends. That makes him sound so…weird. He can’t call them all by name either, because there are too many (too many friends; as if he ever thought he’d be saying that). Maybe he should take Rufioh up on the Sexican offer) usually stay in when they bunk off. John's planning on actually going to some lessons today – he’s got his books and everything.

John nods at them as he makes his way over, flopping down on the grass. Missing the first two lessons can’t hurt, right?

“We’re just discussing what we’re going to do this weekend,” Rufioh informs him. “Sexican meet-up.”

“We’re not the bloody Sexicans,” half the group moans.

“We’ve now got three non-Mexicans anyway,” Equius points out.

“Sexicasians,” Rufioh persists. Rose frowns.

“That sounds like sexy occasions,” she says. Rufioh shrugs.

“You never know,” he says, and Sollux throws some grass at him.

“No one’s going to be having sexy occasions with you,” he says.

“Says you, Virgin Boy,” Rufioh shoots back, and Sollux glowers at him.

“It’s harder for me,” he complains. “That’s unfair.”

“You’re just jealous that I can pull,” Rufioh says dismissively, throwing the grass right back at Sollux.

“Can we be the Virgin Boys?” Sollux says, with a snigger. Equius snorts.

“Yeah, come on, let’s do it,” he says. “Rufioh, you got that gang you so desperately wanted.”

“I am not being associated with the Virgin Boys!” Rufioh exclaims. “People will start thinking I’m a-“

“None of us believe you when you say you’re not, anyway,” Tavros says, and Rufioh lunges for his brother.

“Break it up, girls,” Equius says bossily, but Rose shakes her head with a grin at the two brothers struggling on the ground.

“Tenner on Rufioh,” she offers.

“Nah, Tavros’s got agility on his side,” Sollux says thoughtfully. “Rufioh’s like a lumbering, constipated elephant.”

“When was the last time you saw a constipated elephant?” John wants to know. Sollux nods at the scuffle going on in front of them.

“Right there,” he says.

“-off me,” they hear Tavros yell, the rest of his sentence muffled by his brother.

“Never,” Rufioh hisses, but Tavros’s had enough because suddenly Rufioh’s the one on his back, and Tavros’s on top of him, pinning his wrists to the floor and sitting back on his thighs so he can’t struggle.

“I forgot that Tavros works out,” Rose curses under her breath, handing a grinning Sollux a tenner. Rufioh yelps and shouts for mercy, and Tavros slaps him once in the face before rolling off him and almost onto Sollux.

“You gained me a tenner, bro,” Sollux says. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tavros says, but John’s still enraptured by his arms. He’s not really sure why; they’re nothing special, really, just a little more muscular than normal. He always wears clothes that enhance his body, though; John’s stared at Tavros’s legs in his skinny jeans enough times for him have learnt that lesson by now. Tavros notices him staring and blushes a little, throwing him a furtive glance as John snaps his eyes away from the boy in front of him. He can’t deny that he’s still attracted to Tavros, no matter what’s best for Tavros.

“I’m going to go,” he mumbles, standing up abruptly and almost taking Rose’s eye out with his bag. Rose makes a noise of annoyance but before anyone can say anything to try and convince him to stay or ask him why he’s going, John walks away. He can feel Tavros’s eyes on him, though, so he turns into the building as soon as he can to get away from the gaze that’s burning a hole through him.

He still doesn’t know his way around the school, so he wanders the empty corridors for a while, until the bell goes and students start spilling out of classrooms into the corridors he’s walking up and down aimlessly.

“Hey,” he asks a passing Year Seven, since he figures she won’t punch him in the face. She looks more frightened that he’s going to punch her in the face, so he reckons he’s safe. “Where’s X1?” She points down the corridor and runs away as fast as she can, so John simply walks down the corridor, asking more people as he goes (mostly Year Sevens. He hopes he doesn’t come across as a paedophile). He makes his way there eventually, ten minutes too late for Music, where his lesson has already begun.

“You must be John,” his teacher (Mr Megido, according to his timetable) says. “We’re just doing some composition this lesson, because I can’t be bothered to teach.” He grins at John, and John grins back. He likes him.

“Do you have any guitars?” John asks. Mr Megido nods, pointing at a cupboard in the corner.

“Should be some in there,” he says. “Watch out, most have five strings. I think Tavros and Equius took the last ones with six strings.” John’s heart sinks. Even here, he can’t get away from Tavros.

He gets a guitar out of the cupboard – a nice Strat that looks like it’s seen better days but still feels comfortable and homely in his hands – and ambles off towards the corridor leading off from the classroom, where all the practice rooms seem to be (either that or there’s a very loud, very tuneless band going on).

No practice room is empty – John soon spots Tavros, Sollux, Equius and Rufioh in one and ducks past the door, hoping none of them saw him – and John’s despairing when he reaches the end of the corridor. If this next practice room isn’t free, he’s going to have to join the Sexicans (he’s not going to admit he just used that seriously) in theirs.

John’s heart jumps when he peers in through the window, thinking it’s free as he can’t see anyone, but just as he starts pushing open the door he spots Dave sitting in a corner.

Dave. Of fucking course.

It’s too late now, though, because he’s already started opening the door and he’ll look cowardly if he doesn’t step inside. With a heavy heart (and a heavier sigh), he does so.

“What do you want?” Dave says coldly, and John’s a little taken aback. Okay, he wasn’t exactly expecting a warm welcome, but Dave’s not been…like this for the past few days. He’s been different; not better, but…different.

“To see whether this practice room was free,” John says. Dave narrows his eyes.

“Well, it’s fucking not. Fuck off.”

“What’s got into you?” John snaps.

“What’s got into you?” Dave snaps right back. “If you don’t leave right now, you’ll get a fist to the face.”

“You’re so fucking demented,” John mutters, but he still doesn’t leave. The sassy side of him is telling him to stay, to face Dave, to take what he’s going to give him.

“And you’re a fucking bitch,” Dave hisses, setting down the guitar he’d been strumming and standing up, face level with John’s, eyes blazing. “Didn’t I tell you to leave? This room’s taken.”

“I can see that,” John fires back, but he still stands his ground. He’s going to get himself killed.

“I’m warning you,” Dave hisses, and it makes something jolt in John’s veins.

“Yeah?” John counters. “Go on then.” He drops the guitar, spreading his palms and making himself vulnerable.

He regrets it about three milliseconds later when he’s being slammed into the wall by Dave, held by his collar and he could faintly see Dave's eyes through his sunglasses as they bore into his own.

“You want to fucking try it?” Dave whispers dangerously, and John feels the same thrill run through him. It’s scaring him; what the fuck is wrong with him? “Yeah, I thought so. Not as cocky now, are you?” He releases his grip on John’s shirt, and John rubs the back of his neck where it was digging in.

He doesn’t say anything to Dave, just picks up his guitar and makes to leave.

“John,” Dave says, and John turns around automatically at the sound of his name, forgetting what Dave’s just done to him.

He’s not met with a fist to the face, though, or a fist to the stomach. It’s much, much worse than that.

Dave’s lips are crashing onto his, his tongue tangling with John’s, and John’s letting him, John’s actually kissing back –

He breaks away when he realises that, shoving Dave with all his might. Dave doesn’t even stumble (John does), simply leaning back with an unfathomable look in his eyes.

Neither of them say anything, staring at each other for a good few moments, before John leaves, heart hammering against his chest.

He doesn’t want Dave. His body is telling him he doesn’t want Dave, his mind is telling him he doesn’t want Dave, his heart is telling him he doesn’t want Dave, so what is going on? Why did he kiss Dave back? What was Dave doing, kissing him in the first place?

Tavros's standing outside the practice room, face white.

“I saw,” he says, and John blanches too.

“No, it’s not- it’s not what it looked like-“ he says, and Tavros shakes his head.

“You kissed him.”

“He kissed me! I shoved him away!” He had kissed Dave, though, for a few seconds. For a few seconds, he’d loved that contact.

“You kissed him.” Tavros’s voice is trembling, like he’s going to cry. But they broke it off last night; what’s he doing? He’s meant to be going for Sollux, going for his stars instead of his streetlight.

“I-“

“Did you want it?” John thinks about it. Did he?

No, comes the resounding answer from every fibre of his body. No, he didn’t.

“No,” he says honestly, looking Tavros directly in the eye. Tavros stares at him for a few moments before slumping, relaxing, clearly believing John.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I know I shouldn’t…I know we…Sollux…but…” he trails off, unable to articulate what he’s feeling, but John knows. John understands.

“Stars,” John reminds him gently, stepping forwards and brushing a stray strand of hair out of his warm brown eyes.

“What if I want the streetlight?” Tavros says quietly. John shakes his head.

“Stars,” he repeats. It breaks his heart, and he doesn’t really know why, because he hasn’t even known Tavros that long, but Tavros deserves Sollux. Tavros deserves more than John. He only wants John because John’s all he can see.

At opposite ends of the corridor, a blonde-haired boy and a black-haired boy watch John and Tavros embrace, John stroking Tavros’s hair to soothe him. At opposite ends of the corridor, a blonde-haired boy and a black-haired boy turn away, not wanting to see any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! feedback is v much appreciated :3


	7. bad news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u didnt think it could get any gayer  
> it did

The first thing John notices that is out of place is when Tavros doesn’t look at him the next day. In fact, he doesn’t look at anyone, ripping out grass and depositing it back on the ground it had come from. John frowns, but says nothing – he’s probably just stressed about schoolwork or family or something. He pushes it out of his mind.

The next thing John notices is that Sollux doesn’t sit next to Tavros like he usually does. That confuses him a little bit, but Tavros seems to be anticipating this. Maybe they’ve had an argument, a lover’s tiff – John’ll ask Tavros later.

The third thing John notices is Tavros’s going to lessons.

That shouldn’t be out of place, but it is. Tavros’s always saying how he’d rather be happy than have good grades, as getting good grades and going to lessons doesn’t make him happy. He values his personal health more than stupid GCSEs, and privately John agrees. He still drags himself along to a couple of lessons, though – enough for him to get at least As in all his GCSEs – but he doesn’t enjoy them, much like Tavros. So why is Tavros going to lessons?

Lunch is subdued. Rufioh, Equius and Rose seem to have noticed something’s up too, exchanging worried glances every three seconds and making unenthusiastic small talk to try and engage Sollux and Tavros. Sollux’s better (or worse?) than Tavros, talking animatedly when he’s spoken to but lapsing into contemplative, depressive silence when he’s not. It sends shivers down John’s spine, how easily people can lie.

Tavros mumbles something incoherent as he stands up abruptly when the bell signifying the last lesson rings, getting away from the group as soon as he can. Rufioh and Equius exchange perplexed looks, whereas Rose looks toward him in concern. Sollux doesn’t look up from the ground.

John stands up just as abruptly, and without explanation marches after Tavros. He needs to know what’s going on.

He has longer legs so he catches up with Tavros easily enough, spinning him around to face John.

“What’s up?” John asks. Tavros won’t look him in the eye. 

“Nothing,” he says, trying to get out of John’s grip, but John holds him there.

“No, Tavros, don’t bullshit me,” he sighs. “You’ve barely said a word to me all day – to any of us.”

“I’m just not feeling well,” Tavros mumbles, and John sighs again.

“Tavros,” he says softly, but he loosens his grip on Tavros’s shoulders and Tavros shakes him off, practically sprinting away. John stares at his retreating figure helplessly. What has he done?  
-  
John’s actually turned up to music early, thanks to Tavros’s little stunt, so he gets a practice room at the end of the corridor; the one Dave was in yesterday. He feels relatively good about that – Mr Megido knows he’s in here, too, so Dave can’t throw him out. Mr Megido’s the only teacher John’s seen so far that doesn’t take Dave’s shit.

Everything’s running smoothly until halfway through the lesson, when the door to the practice room pushes open. John doesn’t look up from his guitar, assuming it’s just Mr Megido checking up on him again, but then he hears the door close and snaps his head up. Mr Megido doesn’t shut the door.

It’s not Mr Megido.

Dave’s standing there, arms folded, glowering at John.

“This is my practice room,” he says quietly, dangerously. 

“Too bad I was here first, isn’t it?” John shoots back.

“Get. Out.”

“Make. Me.” And suddenly John’s guitar is being knocked out of his hands and he’s being shoved roughly against the wall, pinned by Dave’s body. It’s far too close for comfort, and John struggles to keep his breathing under control as he fights back against Dave. He can feel Dave’s body warmth seeping into him through their thin clothes, his muscular arms pinning John’s wrists to the wall…

“Get the fuck off me,” John hisses angrily, writhing under Dave’s grasp. Dave chuckles, holding John’s wrists tighter, so tight it nearly cuts the circulation off.

“Make me,” he says teasingly, eyes ablaze, but John’s not in the mood for his games anymore. He grits his teeth and with one final push manages to dislodge himself from his place against the wall, using Dave’s look of utter surprise to his advantage as he spins them around, catching Dave’s wrists with his hands and pinning them against the wall.

“I think I just did,” John whispers with a smirk. It feels good to one-up Dave for once.

“Amateur move, John,” Dave says, and John shrugs, letting him go. Clearly, he is an amateur, because as soon as he lets Dave go Dave’s back to pinning him to the wall. It’s like a fucking power struggle, John thinks as he fights against Dave’s grasp again.

“What are you getting out of this?” he snarls at Dave. Dave grins at him, not even breaking a sweat as he keeps John held against the wall.

“At worst, a little bit of fun. At best, a practice room and you to fuck off,” Dave shrugs. John shakes his wrist hard enough to get one of Dave’s hands off himself, catching Dave’s wrist in his hand and clenching it tight.

“Even?” he offers. Dave narrows his eyes with a scowl.

“Never,” he hisses, trying to move his hand to catch John’s wrist. John flicks Dave’s hand away deftly, almost casually.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes of school left,” John reasons. Dave’s eyes flick to the clock and then back to John’s face, and he releases his grip on John’s wrists. John pulls them away, nursing the red marks on the skin. Dave steps back, allowing John to get away from the wall and Dave’s body.

“Fuck, you’re so bipo-“ is all John manages to mutter before Dave’s shoving him against the wall again, but this time pinning him there with his hips, with his lips, with his hands roaming every inch of John’s body. His fingertips brush against the sensitive skin of John’s hips and John moans accidentally, opening his mouth for Dave to enter. He tries to push Dave off him but Dave’s stronger, and after a while John gives up trying to struggle and simply goes with it, kissing Dave back. John doesn't know why.

Dave groans lowly into the kiss and something snaps in John, makes John gasp and grind his hips against Dave’s and that’s when he feels that Dave’s hard, hard underneath John’s touch, and wrenches himself away from Dave - as much as he can, anyway - gazing at him.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly, his voice wondrous. “What are you?”

“Dave Strider,” Dave says, just as softly. “Bad news.”

John stares at Dave a while longer, thoughts rushing through his head, jumbled together and not making sense. One is prevalent, though, one that he really does not want or need tumbling through his mind and coursing through his veins; he wants to kiss Dave again.

Almost without realising, John darts forwards and presses their lips together again. Dave moans, and that, that turns John on. As soon as he realises that, though, he breaks away.

Neither of them say anything. Without a word, Dave’s gone.

What the fuck.   
-  
The bell has gone already; five minutes ago, in fact, and John’s still packing up in a daze. He doesn’t know what’s happened, doesn’t know what the fuck was going through his mind when he kissed Dave back, let alone when he insinuated the kiss. He’s shaken up and, quite frankly, a little bit scared. Dave’s not what he needs, not what he wants, right?

The answer to the latter is inconclusive.

There’s a tentative knock on the practice room door, and John jerks his head up, afraid it might be Dave back to fuck with his emotions.

It’s not; it’s Sollux.

John beckons him in, surprised – they haven’t really spoken much as an exclusive pair, only in group conversations. He likes Sollux well enough, though.

“Can…can we talk?” Sollux looks almost nervous, chewing on his lip, and John nods, surprised. What’s going on?

“Sure,” he says, packing the last of his things into his bag and slinging it to the side. “What’s up?”

“It…it’s about Tavros,” Sollux sighs, carding a hand through his sharp cut hair. John’s heart drops, and he nods, trying to ignore the sudden feelings of guilt that are crashing over him. He’s not even together with Tavros – he established that clearly enough yesterday – so why is he feeling bad? He’s allowed to kiss other people, allowed to kiss Dave.

“What about Tavros?” John asks. Sollux bites his lip again, as if he’s conflicted about telling John.

“Do you want to sit down? It’s kind of…kind of a long story,” he says, and John nods, drawing up a chair and gesturing for Sollux to do the same.

“Tavros and I have known each other for years,” Sollux says. “I figured out I was gay when I started having feelings towards Tavros about four or five years ago. According to Equius, Tavros returns – or returned - those feelings, and for years we had a flirtatious friendship going on. Never anything more, mind, but I was content with that, with knowing that he was kind of mine, in that way. Then you showed up.” John can’t look Sollux in the eyes. He feels absolutely terrible. He knew it would be like that, yet he still let Tavros and him happen – still insinuated things between them. He was the one who initiated their first kiss, after all.

“I don’t blame you, really – Tavros was always going to get bored, always going to move on from me. I’m not much, really, not funny, not clever, not good-looking…nothing that you are. It was inevitable, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.” John tries to apologise, say something, but Sollux waves his apology away. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, for not being good enough. I’ve never been good enough for anyone, so I don’t know why it would be any different for Tavros. Anyway, I saw you two in the corridor yesterday. That’s when I really realised there was something going on, something more than I could explain – or Tavros, apparently. We had a fight last night. He called me, asking if I wanted to come over, and he sounded kind of subdued. Naturally, I went over, and he told me something had happened with you. I told him what I’d seen yesterday, and he explained that nothing had been going on – you’d just been comforting him, apparently. I asked why he’d needed comforting and that’s when he closed up, asking me to leave. I got upset – understandably, I think, because Tavros’s been my best friend for years and suddenly he’s telling you things and not me. We had a bit of a yelling match and then I left, and we haven’t spoken since.” He finishes with a shrug. “I just thought you ought to know what’s up with him.”

John’s heart is aching, breaking at the sight of this insecure, honest, decent boy in front of him. John’s hurt him through his own selfish behaviour, leading Tavros on and hurting him too. He’s broken a friendship, broken a potential relationship, all because he was too self-centred to stop what he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when he finds his voice again. Sollux makes to speak again, but John presses on. “I’ve got some explaining of my own to do, I think. Just listen.” There’s a moment where John thinks Sollux’s going to say something, or maybe even leave, but then he nods tightly.

"Tavros told me something very private the night all of you slept over. He also explained to me why he didn’t want to tell you; because you mean more to him than I do, and he was less afraid of losing me than he was of losing you. I did something stupid after he told me that – I kissed him. I’m not sure why; maybe I was trying to make himself feel better, or maybe I was trying to make myself feel better, but it happened. We flirted a lot the next day, as you probably noticed, although it wasn’t intentional. When all of you went to sleep, we spoke for a few minutes but then Dave turned up outside.” Sollux tenses at the mention of Dave’s name. John frowns but ploughs on – no one else has flinched like that at merely the sound of his name.

“I spoke to Dave. I didn’t know what he wanted, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t even say anything rude. He just wanted to talk. He took me into the street, and told me to look up, asked me what I saw. I told him what I thought was obvious – the streetlights, and the moon. He pointed out that I could see the streetlights, not the stars – the streetlights, which were brighter, closer, easier to get. He told me that they drowned out the stars. I looked harder, past the streetlights and realised that he was right. I could see the stars, faintly in the distance, yeah, but they were still there. And I realised what I had to do when I turned around to speak to Dave and he had gone. So I got Tavros out and explained the same thing to him – the streetlights drowned out the beauty of the stars – and he knew. He realised what it means – I was his streetlight, and you were his stars. We kissed once more, under the streetlights and the stars, and I thought that was the end of that. But yesterday I…” he sighs, breaking off.

“I had a fight with Dave – he didn’t hurt me, don’t worry – but for some reason he kissed me at the end of it.” He omits the fact Dave did the same today. Except today he liked it. “Tavros saw us kissing, and it upset him. I don’t exactly know why, but I know it did. I reminded him that he had to look for the stars, not the streetlight, and he…he said, ‘What if I want the streetlight?’. I said no, stars. That’s when we hugged. He does…he does want you more, Sollux, he’s just conflicted. And all that confusion, all the confusion, that was my fault. And I’m…God, I’m so sorry Sollux.”

“Well,” Sollux says. “I guess we’re both in our own states of confusion, then.” John laughs hollowly.

“Yeah,” he says. “Except yours is my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Sollux says. “It was inevitable. I guess I’m just lucky it happened with someone who set him straight.”

“It was Dave,” he says. “Dave pointed it out.”

And suddenly he realises.

Streetlights and stars has a double meaning.


	8. the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about 10 chapters to go!!!  
> then i might do a sequel w/ dave's pov what do you think

The next day is completely uneventful. Except for the fact that John sees neither Tavros nor Dave all day. He can’t say he’s not pleased about the latter – relieved would probably be a better word to describe it – but the former worries him a little. Tavros always shows up to school, even if he doesn’t go to any lessons (which is more often than not). Rufioh doesn’t know where he is, either, saying he didn’t see him when he left the house that morning, thinking he’d just got up late, which worries John even more. He can’t, however, leave school early, so he speaks when he’s spoken to and does nothing but worry all day. He goes to all his lessons, for once not having Music, just to avoid talking to people. Working puts things out of his mind, too, thoughts that get progressively more manic and frantic and outlandish as the day wears on.

Eventually, however, it’s time for him to go home, racing out of Chemistry thankfully as soon as the bell rings, ignoring Mr Makara’s yells for him to return to the classroom immediately.

First stop – Tavros’s house.

He pulls out the scrap piece of paper that Rufioh had scribbled a terrible map to their house from school on – he’s going to Equius’s after school with Rose, so he can’t take John to Tavros’s – and stares at it intently. He’s either meant to be going left, or underground. He guesses the former, as the latter would be relatively difficult, and runs off down the street, knocking younger children over as he goes. He doesn’t even stop to apologise (or listen to their angry yells), skidding to a halt at the end of the road as he tries to figure out what the fuck Rufioh has drawn here. He’d said it wasn’t far, right, two roads or something like that, closer than John’s house, so John takes the left and speedwalks down the road, looking for number fifty three. If he’s wrong, he can just run down the other road or call Rufioh angrily, ask him why he can’t draw for shit. He takes Fine Art, for God’s sake, he should be able to draw something as simple as a map.

It takes him up until forty-six to realise that he’s actually on the wrong side of the road, and when he crosses he nearly gets hit by a car, jumping out of the way just in time as an angry fist shakes at him out of the window. John flips the car off defiantly, hopping onto the curb and running down to number fifty-three. All or nothing, right?

He rings the doorbell. Nobody answers. He tries again, and gets the same reaction.

John retreats down the path that leads back to the main road, digging his phone out of his pocket and dialling Rufioh’s number, praying he picks up. Thankfully, he does, on the second ring.

“Yo,” he says. “Did you find it okay?”

“I don’t know, I turned left at the end of the road, was that right?” John frets.

“Yeah,” Rufioh says. “Is he not answering?”

“No,” John says. “He will be in, right?”

“I don’t know,” Rufioh says, and even he has an edge of panic to his voice. “Go round the side, to the right of the house, there’s a fencey-door thing there you can get over into the garden.”

“Wait, I’ll put the phone in my pocket whilst I do that,” John says, and Rufioh makes a noise of agreement. He shoves his phone in his pocket and runs around to the right of the house. The fencey-door looks easy enough to climb, so he chucks his bag over and gets a decent foothold, vaulting himself over and landing painfully on his feet, almost breaking his ankles.

Fucking ow.

“Okay,” he says breathlessly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and nursing his painful ankle as he stands up properly. “Where now?”

“Try the back door, it’s not usually locked,” Rufioh says. John limps over to the patio doors, pulling on the handle and then shaking his head with a sigh.

“Locked,” he says.

“Okay,” Rufioh says, and that’s definitely panic in his voice. “We never lock those doors. Shit. There’s a key under a flowerpot, like, the second one to the right or something…” John doesn’t even say anything, just lifts the second flowerpot to the right, finding a rusted key underneath.

“Got it,” he says, slipping it into the lock and letting himself in. The pain in his ankle is beginning to subside, so he tentatively puts a little bit more weight on it. When the pain doesn’t increase, he steps on it properly, letting himself into the house and dropping the key on the floor without a second thought. He needs to find Tavros; what if he’s in trouble? His mind flits back to the scars on Tavros’s arms, and he breathes in sharply. Shit.

“Rufioh, where’s Tavros’s room?” he says.

“Upstairs, second from the left,” Rufioh says.

But John doesn’t even have to go to Tavros’s bedroom, because he spots a piece of paper on the table in Tavros’s terrible handwriting.

At the bridge.

That’s all it says, no more, no less. At the bridge. What bridge? What’s he doing at the bridge?

“He’s left a note that says ‘at the bridge’,” John says, bewildered. Rufioh curses lowly.

“Right,” he says. “Go over to the front window, look out of it.” John obeys, walking over to the large bay window at the front of the room. 

“Yeah?” he says. There’s no bridge here.

“Can you see the end of the road, if you look to the right?” If he cranes his head and practically breaks his neck, then yes, he can. John voices this to Rufioh, who says this sounds about right.

“Alright. Go to the end of the road, and then go to the right. Follow the dirt track until you reach the bridge. Go quick; I don’t know what he’s planning. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

John doesn’t say anything, just shoves the phone in his pocket, not even bothering to hang up as he runs out of the front door and all the way up the street (which is, incidentally, stupidly long and seems to get longer the further he runs, although that might just be due to his high levels of unfitness), turning right at the end like Rufioh had said. Sure enough, there’s a dirt track leading off into a small, dense patch of trees. John can see some kind of light filtering through at the end, though, and he runs all the way through the trees too.

It opens out onto some kind of clearing, a half-dirt-track half-road thing that happens to be a stone bridge. Tavros’s standing there, standing- standing on top of the fucking barrier.

“Tavros!” John yells, but Tavros doesn’t even turn around. His hair is ruffling in the wind, although most of it is held in by his beanie, and he looks almost angelic.

“Tavros,” John says again, drawing nearer. “Tavros, get down.”

“It’s so peaceful,” Tavros says dreamily, as if John hadn’t even spoken. “It’s like…like all my troubles and worries are gone.”

“Get down,” John repeats, trying not to lose his mind. What if Tavros jumps? John can’t see how far down it is, which is worrying in itself because it means it’s far enough for Tavros to die. What if John can’t dissuade Tavros from jumping?

“I’m not here to jump,” Tavros says. “I’m here to think.”

“Why does that require you standing there?” John says. “Can’t you get down and think? You’re making me nervous.”

“Try it,” Tavros suggests. “Come on, get up.” He turns around, offering John his hand. John stands there, hesitantly. He doesn’t want to get up. What if he falls? He doesn’t want to die. And if he falls and he’s holding Tavros’s hand, he’ll be responsible for Tavros dying too.

“No,” he says. “Get down.”

“I’m not getting down,” Tavros says. “Get up.”

“Tavros,” John says.

“Come on, give it a shot,” Tavros says. “What have you got to lose?”

“My life?!” John says.

“I won’t let you fall,” Tavros says, eyes earnest. “I promise.” John hesitates a moment longer before answering – a moment too long, because that’s all it takes for his irrational thought to kick in.

Do it, it whispers. It’ll be fun.

Slowly, John makes his way towards Tavros, taking his outstretched hand and heaving himself onto the weathered stone of the barrier, staring out at the green trees beyond.

Tavros’s right. This is the most relaxed John’s ever been in his life. It really does feel like all his troubles are gone. He can hear the rushing water beneath him, the crickets in the grassy woodland surrounding them, Tavros’s breathing next to him. He can feel the wind teasing his hair, his body, the sun shining down on them, making him turn his face into it, closing his eyes, relishing in this sudden tranquillity. He’s still holding Tavros’s hand, but he doesn’t let go.

For the first time in a long time, he feels free.   
-  
Rufioh shows up approximately two minutes later, yelling at them both manically to get down. Tavros opens his eyes and turns to look at John, rolling his eyes fondly before stepping down from the bridge, taking John with him. Rufioh yells at them both for a while, mainly at Tavros about how worried sick he was and how he was going to matarte or something.

He walks Tavros home angrily, still muttering things about te voy a estrangular, leaving John to find his own way home.

He manages, it, somehow, weaving through street after street until he finds somewhere that looks vaguely familiar, realising it’s his street but the opposite end. His street is stupidly long, as well, so he has to trudge about about a light-year until he reaches his house. Great.

He ambles down the road, kicking anything in his path, with his hands in his pockets since he doesn’t have his schoolbag. Whatever; like he uses it anyway. Tavros or Rufioh will bring it in tomorrow.

John’s just meandering down the street, daydreaming aimlessly, when a door clicks open.

“John,” a voice says, and John squints into the dusk ahead to see who it is. It looks faintly like Rose, so he approaches with a spring in his step…until he realises it’s not Rose. It’s Dave.

“What do you want?” John says, and his voice sounds cold, even to himself. It takes him by surprise.

“To talk,” Dave says, clicking the door shut behind him again. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a red hoodie that clings to his body in all the right places, and it takes all of John’s willpower to not let his eyes roam Dave's body hungrily.

He shakes that thought out of his head, choosing to replace it with a scowl in Dave’s direction.

“Alright, talk,” he says, crossing his arms defiantly. Dave sighs, shaking his head with a small, almost fond smile. John wants to kiss it right off his lips. And then punch him for being so infuriating and such a dick.

“Can we go somewhere a little more…private?” Dave asks.

“Where do you suggest?” John asks. Dave shrugs.

“Bridge?” John rolls his eyes – he’s just walked from there, and now he has to walk all the way back, and it’s getting dark – but nods. Dave walks down his driveway and up the path with John, side by side, neither of them saying a word or looking at the other, not even sideways glances, until they reach the bridge. It’s dark by now, dark enough for stars to be shining in the woods that are far enough away from any light pollution to show the stars without anything obscuring them. 

“Okay,” John says, spinning around to face Dave. “Talk.”

“Sit,” Dave offers, gesturing at the bridge. John sighs, but, unafraid now that he’s stood on there, swings his legs over the side and lets them dangle into the darkness. He can’t even see the water beneath them, staring intently as Dave sits down next to him.

“You spoke to Sollux,” Dave says after a moment. John says nothing. “Did you speak to Tavros?” Still, John says nothing. Dave sighs.

“You know they’re better for each other, John,” he says softly. “You know you were his streetlight.”

“He was mine, too,” John says quietly. “You let it have a double meaning.” John can’t see Dave, but he can practically hear his wry smile.

“Yeah,” Dave admits. “I did.” They’re silent for a while again, and then Dave speaks.

“It’s pretty here,” he remarks.

“I can’t see much of it,” John says. “It’s pretty fucking dark.”

“Exactly,” Dave says. “Doesn’t the darkness strike you as…beautiful?”

“Not really,” John says. “It’s dark.”

“It’s beautiful because you don’t know what’s there,” Dave says.

“I’d count that as pretty damn terrifying. There could be a murderer behind us right now,” John says.

“And tell me honestly that you would mind if you died right now.” John opens his mouth – of course I’d fucking mind, I don’t want to die, are you out of your mind? – but nothing comes out. Because he wouldn’t mind.

And that is the most terrifying thought he’s ever had.

“I thought as much,” Dave says, smile audible in his voice. John scowls, leading them to lapse into silence for a few more moments.

“Look up.” John obeys. “What can you see?”

“The stars,” John says. “What can you see?”

“The beginning,” Dave says. “The end. Births and deaths, right above us, right in front of our eyes, beauty in both.”

“No streetlights here,” John mutters.

“Exactly,” Dave says. “Just the stars. Just the beginning, just the end. Just me, just you. Just us.”

Dave’s hand finds his in the darkness, their fingers tangling together as they sit there, gazing up at the night sky with the water rushing underneath them.  
Just them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave comments i like them thank you!!! :)))


	9. daddy's home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dave and john get their gay on  
> jesus christ that rhymes why  
> WHY

John walks in from school on a Thursday evening, elated from sitting with his friends all day (and Tavros and Sollux actually talking again), to find a suitcase at the foot of the stairs. He stops abruptly; this can only mean one thing.

Daddy’s home.

He wonders whether he can make it upstairs without his father noticing, but it’s too late, because he slammed the front door really loudly when he came in and now Kanaya’s standing in front of him.

“Your father wants to speak to you,” she says, and something about her tone makes John nervous. He’s never got on with his father, but they tend to ignore each other rather than talk, because it simply causes arguments which upset Jade and John’s grandmother. Much as John and his father dislike each other, they each love other members of the family, and would do anything to see them happy.

John nods, dropping his bag on the floor and slinking into the living room as quietly as he can. His father is standing there, still in his business suit, facing the fireplace almost contemplatively. John knows better, though. He knows he’s just standing there for added drama, making John wait with bated breath until he turns around, upping the tension and suspense.

He does just that, making John wait in silence for a few moments before turning around, hands behind his back.

“Johnny,” he says, and John tries not to wince. His father’s the only one who didn’t take to the nickname ‘John’ (“We named him Johnny for a reason!” he scolds everyone around the house. “Don’t butcher the name.”). “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Yeah, ‘cause you haven’t bothered to be here, John thinks spitefully, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t want to aggravate his father – he just wants to get out of there, to be honest – and he prefers it when his father isn’t around.

“How’s school going?” his father asks mildly, almost casually, but John can see the challenge in his eyes.

“Fine,” John says, but it comes out too defensive.

“Really?” his father says, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what I hear.”

“From whom?” John asks.

“Some teachers seem to think you don’t…turn up to lessons,” his father replies.

“I’m still getting A*s everywhere,” John retorts. “Why would I have to attend if I’m getting great marks?”

“Because that’s what school is about,” his father says. “Hard work and making friends. Not that you’d know anything about either, of course.” John bites back an angry growl, clenching his fists.

“I don’t need to work hard,” he says through gritted teeth. “And anyway, I do have friends.” The eyebrow is raised again.

“I’d like to meet them,” John’s father says. “Drunk, emo kids, are they?”

“So what if they are?” John says. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m your father.”

“So why don’t you start acting like one?” John spits. There’s silence as John’s father eyes his son, looks him up and down with an expression of half-disgust and half-amusement on his face.

“Go to your room,” he says quietly. “I don’t know where we went wrong with you.”

“Not loving me, for a start,” John mutters, turning to leave.

“How could I love something like you?” his father yells. “All you’ve brought is disappointment, shame and failure to this family.”

“Oh, so you’d rather I was someone like you?” John shouts back, rounding on his father. “You’d rather I didn’t get good grades? You’d rather I bullied my way to the top of a law firm? You’d rather I treated no one with a shred of respect and didn’t care a jot about my family? You know what, I’m happier as I am. I’d choose myself over you any day, and so would anyone else.”

“I’d rather you were a decent human being!” John’s father roars.

“You know nothing about being a decent human being!” John screams at his father. “Fuck you. You’re not a father, not a husband, not a man.” Before his father can retort, John stalks out of the room and straight back out of the door, walking past a frightened-looking Kanaya comforting an even more frightened-looking Jade. John’s so angry he doesn’t even stop to comfort Jade, just walks out and down the street and down another and another and another until it’s dark and somehow he’s found himself at the bridge.

He gets up on the bridge, standing with his arms spread out as if he’s going to jump, and he screams into the night.  
-  
John doesn’t go home that night.

He wanders the streets until the early hours of the morning, half-debating going to Tavros's when he realises that he’s probably going to catch pneumonia roaming around like this. He doesn’t want to wake Tavros up at a stupid hour like this, though, and he doesn’t want to give either Tavros or Sollux the wrong ideas, so he keeps his distance.

He almost wants someone to find him, wants a fight, but as this town is a shithole full of obedient teenagers and old people no one else is out on the streets. He ends up walking back up his road again, not planning on going home but not wanting to stay out much longer – all he’s wearing is a thin hoodie that’s barely keeping him warm right now.

John flops down on the curb, stretching his legs out into the road and tipping his head back to squint at the brightly lit orange sky. He doesn’t want to fucking be here anymore. He’s still simmering; his father really brings out the worst in him. He’d almost started to be happy before he showed up again. And he doesn’t even have his mum here to defend him.

“What are you doing out at three in the morning?” a voice says, and John jerks his head back down to see Dave standing in front of him.

“Life,” John says. “Things getting to me.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Dave says, sitting down next to John.

“Not really,” John says. “It’s just my dad, nothing big.” The word dad feels weird in his mouth, as if it doesn’t belong there.

“Okay,” Dave says. They sit in silence for a moment, before John shivers involuntarily as the wind curls itself around his body.

“You should come inside,” Dave says gently. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out much longer.”

“I’ve probably already got one,” John says apathetically.

“Come on,” Dave says, and John just can’t be bothered to fight about it. He stands up, following Dave down the road and into the warm house. Dave turns around and presses a finger to his lips as he tiptoes up the stairs, gesturing for John to do the same. John shuts the front door as quietly as he can and follows the path Dave’s taking, zigzagging across steps and missing some out completely, presumably to avoid creaking. He pushes open a door at the top of the stairs and down a slight corridor, ushering John inside and clicking the door shut silently behind them.

“So,” he says after a moment, slightly uncomfortably, as John gazes around the room. It feels like he’s intruding on a different Dave, a Dave that no one but Dave knows. There are childhood memories everywhere, souvenirs and memorabilia and photographs and drawings and collectible things and so much stuff that feels like it’s revealing a Dave no one else knows about, a warm, laughing, friendly Dave that’s long gone now.

“You confuse me, you know,” John says suddenly, rounding on Dave. Dave lowers his head.

“I know,” he says, and he sounds even more uncomfortable than ever. “I confuse myself.”

“Why do you do it?” John demands. “Why do you make me, then break me? Why do you get my hopes up and then act like you don’t know me the next day? Dammit, I’d be able to deal with it if you either hated me or loved me, but you can’t seem to fucking decide, and it’s confusing the hell out of me.” He doesn’t know why the words are suddenly pouring out of his lips, rolling off his tongue, but they are, and he can’t seem to stop them. He doesn’t really want to stop them, either; he wants to know what the fuck is up with Dave.

“I don’t know,” Dave says, and he sounds half-wrecked and half-desperate. John’s not entirely sure what to make of that. He was expecting an explanation of dares, or simply to toy with him – it sounds like something Dave would do; he definitely wouldn’t put it past him.

“So why do it?” John asks. “Why can’t you make your mind up?”

“It’s not that easy,” Dave says.

“It could be, if you let it,” John says. Dave doesn’t look him in the eye, leaning against his windowsill and staring at the ground.

“I can’t, John,” he whispers. “There’s so much at stake. I can’t lose what I’ve built up. I can’t risk my reputation. I can’t…I don’t even know what I am, what you are, what we are. I don’t know what’s going on. You confuse the hell out of me too.”

“Why?” John asks. “Am I the one playing games, tossing you aside whenever I get bored then roping you back in when I want a bit of fun? Am I the one treating you like a bitch at school and kissing you under the stars away from everyone else’s eyes?”

“No,” Dave says. “Emotionally. I’ve never…I don’t know. I’ve never been this invested in someone before, whether it’s because I want to punch you in the face or kiss you. I’ve never felt such passionate things towards someone, whether it’s hatred or…or…not hatred. I’ve never cared about someone like I care about you. Fuck, John, what are you doing to me? I’m not even gay.”

“You kissed me,” John points out. “Three times.”

“I know,” Dave says, and he sounds pained. “You don’t fucking understand, John. You don’t know what it’s like, to be straight and sure of your life and have everything laid out for you, and then some fucking kid show up and screws everything up. You don’t understand what it’s like to be so confused about everything in your fucking life, try and push away the thing that’s causing the confusion only to find that you need that thing in your life because it’s causing more confusion and disturbances to be away from it. I’m not gay. I can’t be gay, and I’m- I’m not. I’m just not. But I want you. So what the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you need to stop putting what other people want for you and what the world thinks is best before what makes you happy,” John says.

“I was happy!” Dave practically yells before covering his mouth, forgetting that he has to be quiet. “I was fucking happy, before you came along.”

“Well, sorry for screwing up your perfect fucking life,” John practically spits. Dave grits his teeth.

“And now I want to fucking kiss you, you bastard,” he whispers.

“I’m not stopping you,” John says, and Dave gazes at him for approximately three milliseconds before he’s launching himself across the room, knocking John backwards onto the bed that’s stood in the middle, kissing John roughly as they tangle together. Dave breaks away, straddling John, to grin down at him, before moving his lips and tongue to John’s neck. John groans lowly, and Dave pulls back and presses a finger to his lips, reminding him to be quiet.

That’s going to be fucking easy, isn’t it?

Dave reattaches his lips to John’s neck, grinding against him as he does so. It’s like he knows all of John’s weak spots, and John can feel himself getting hard under Dave’s touch. Dave seems to be able to feel it too, grinning wickedly into his neck as he grinds harder into John. John has to bite his tongue to stop himself gasping Dave’s name.

“No,” he says, pushing Dave away. He’s scared; this is going too fast. He’s not ready for this yet, not with Dave, not until he knows where he stands with Dave. Hell, he doesn’t even know where Dave stands with him. Dave rolls off the bed, but John catches his wrist just in time and pulls him back so he’s back on top of John, straddling him once again.

“No?” Dave says.

“Not like this,” John whispers. Dave takes a moment to consider, but then nods, leaning down to press his lips to John’s in a (comparatively) chaste kiss.

“Get some sleep,” Dave murmurs against John’s lips. John nods (as much as he can, anyway), and Dave rolls off him, lying down next to him and turning his head so he’s facing John, both of them grinning half-shyly at each other. John wonders if Dave’ll still be there when he wakes up.

He realises he wants Dave to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments pleasssee <3 i need feedback so i can improve! c:


	10. hide a lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've hit the decade mark ooooooo!!  
> almost finished this holy crap

When John wakes up the next morning, it’s to a pair of violet eyes peering at him curiously.

“Hello,” the owner of the eyes says, and John blinks, opening his eyes again to see Rose standing above him. “What are you doing in my house? More to the point, what are you doing in my brother’s room?”

“Long story,” John mutters, struggling upwards and supporting himself on his elbows, rubbing his eyes blearily. “Where’s Dave?”

“Don't know,” Rose shrugs, a knowing smile on her face. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Nah, I’m alright,” John says, not wanting to impose. “What time is it?”

“Almost time for school,” Rose says. “Do you want to get your stuff before we go?”

“No,” John says. His dad will still be home – and most likely be up; he probably has another plane to catch, another country to fuck off to. Good riddance.

“Okay,” Rose nods. “Come on, then.”

“It’s like, eight o’clock,” John moans.

“It takes about half an hour to walk there,” Rose says, throwing him an odd look.

“It takes me five,” John mutters.

“Well, not all of us have private jets,” Rose says, rolling her eyes.

“Where do you think I’d keep a private jet?” John snorts, rolling off the bed. “I cut through other people’s gardens and shit.” Rose stares at him for a moment before grinning.

“You’re a genius,” she says, unshouldering her schoolbag and flopping down on the bed next to John for another twenty blissful minutes of freedom.  
-  
John doesn’t see Dave all day, much as he looks out for him. He goes to Music, but Dave’s not there. Rose just shrugs it off – he’s probably off with Cronus and Eridan, she says – but John still finds himself checking corridors and classrooms almost absent-mindedly for Dave.

“Are you okay?” Rufioh says, when John zones out once again, gaze following someone who looks a little like Dave as they cross the grass.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah,” John says unconvincingly, snapping himself out of the trance-like state he’s in. Rufioh throws him another curious look, but says no more of it. Tavros, however, frowns at him, and John knows he’s in for a grilling later. Great. Why can’t he be a convincing liar? Of all the skills he had to not get, it had to be one of the most valuable.

“Anyway, what’s happening tonight?” Equius says, drawing attention away from John, which he’s thankful for. 

“I’m free,” Tavros offers, and the rest of the group murmur and nod in turn. “Right, so where?” 

“John’s place is the only place big enough,” Rose says, directing a glance in John’s direction. 

“My dad might still be home…” John says, trailing off. Everyone looks so disappointed that John sighs, reconsidering. “Alright, fuck him, you can come. Bring your own alcohol, though.”

His dad can suck dick.  
-  
Everyone’s at John’s house, crowded into his bedroom, the stench of alcohol permeating the air and intoxicating everyone even more.

“I wanna go to…to…” Rufioh frowns, pouting a little as he tries to think of the word. His face brightens as he manages to extract it from his alcohol-befuddled brain. “Park!”

“There…there’s no park h-here, Rufioh,” Equius hiccups.

“Aw,” Rufioh says, and he looks so dejected that John’s drunken heart aches a little. People always look cuter when they’re drunk. Or maybe it’s when John’s drunk; he can’t really tell.

“John’s room is nice,” Rose says. “Why do do- you do- wanna you-“ she looks frustrated, unable to finish her sentence because of how drunk she is, settling for another swig from her bottle instead.

“You guys suck at holding your drink,” Tavros slurs, resting his head on a drunken Sollux’s shoulder. “Me- me and John are great.”

“Great at being c-cu-“ but Rufioh never finishes his word because he’s out, keeling backwards and snoring loudly into the silence of the room.

“Why do they all pass out at the same time?” John asks in wonder as Rose too zones out, followed shortly by Equius and Sollux. “Is- is there something in the drink?”

“Something in their systems,” Tavros shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Hmm,” John says, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of his bed. “Yeah.” They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Tavros speaks.

“You and Dave?” he asks. John closes his eyes, not moving from his current position, facing away from Tavros. Cowardly, yes, but he’s never denied that he is a coward.

“What about us?” John mumbles.

“You…Dave?” Tavros asks quietly, sounding half-incredulous and half-hurt. John sighs.

“Not my fault,” he says. “Didn’t choose it.”

“But…he’s not even nice,” Tavros says, frustrated. “You could have picked Equius. Or Rufioh. Or even Rose. But Dave?”

“I don’t know,” John says. “Something…something about him.” He shrugs. “You have Sollux. Why do you care?” he asks softly, almost as an afterthought.

Almost.

“Because I still care about you,” Tavros says. “Just because…just because Sollux, doesn’t mean I can’t still want you. Or need you. Fuck, I don’t even know what to do. Why is everything so confusing?” John barks out a short, sharp laugh. Confusing. Tavros knows nothing about confusing.

“You think that’s confusing,” John says. “I have that and bipolar Dave. How- how do you think I feel?”

“You chose Dave,” Tavros says, and John finally lifts his head to look at him.

“I didn’t choose Dave,” he says quietly. “I would never choose that. I wouldn’t- wouldn’t choose that for anyone. It hurts to want him. I don’t even know if I want him. I don’t want to want him. I don’t know who to want, what to feel, nothing. I want you, I want Dave, I can’t have you, I don’t want Dave…” he trails off, letting his head hit the bedpost again.

“No,” Tavros says soothingly, inching closer to John and twining their fingers together, resting their conjoined hands on John’s knee. “I know.”

“I don’t know what to do, Tavros,” John says, but it comes out more choked than he was hoping for.

“Do what your heart is telling you,” Tavros murmurs.

“I don’t know what my heart is telling me.”

“Then do what I tell you,” Tavros says. “Close enough, right?”

And he’s joking, but John thinks he might be right.  
-  
John’s starting to get way too good at holding his alcohol, waking up in the morning without the slightest hint of what had gone on the night before. Tavros seems to be the same, waking without a complaint of a headache or stomach ache or general sick feeling.

“You know you get like this when you drink whiskey,” Tavros scolds his older brother. “Why’d’you still do it?”

“Why don’t you stop me?” Rufioh moans, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his stomach.

“I’m never drinking again,” Equius groans from the bed next to Rufioh’s, curled up in a ball and holding his head in his hands as if he’s scared it’ll fall apart otherwise.

“Until tomorrow,” Tavros says under his breath, still fussing over Rufioh.

“Fuck, I can’t remember a thing from last night,” Rose says, struggling to get herself up on her elbows and wincing as a sharp, stabbing pain hits her head, making it throb painfully.

“That’s because you were out for most of it,” John says, leaning over from his bed (higher than the others, owing to him actually having a bedframe rather than just a mattress on the floor) and gazing at Rose as condescendingly as he can manage. Rose scowls at him, lying back down and closing her eyes.

“Paracetamol,” Equius moans. Tavros throws John a look, still nursing his brother – get some – and John sighs dramatically, swinging his legs out of bed and almost hitting Rose in the face.

“Excuse you,” Rose begins, but John just steps out of her and ambles out of the door, making his way downstairs.

His path is blocked by his father, though.

“What’s that ruckus coming from your room, Johnny?” he asks disapprovingly.

“My friends,” John says, trying to edge around his father. His father’s having none of it, however, blocking his way every time he tries to get past.

“Why didn’t I know they were here?” he asks.

“You didn’t bother to ask,” John says with a shrug. “I need to buy some paracetamol; can I get past?”

“Paracetamol?” John’s father asks with an eyebrow raised suspiciously. “What for?”

“We all got shitfaced last night,” John says in a tired voice, ignoring the way his father draws in a sharp breath at the curse word he uses. “Only Tavros and I can handle our drink. Unless you want to take this up with grandma, I suggest you move.”

“You’re lucky I have to leave now,” John’s father says. “Otherwise I’d be having words with your friends.”

“I’ll be sure to let them know what an honour they’ve missed out on,” John assures him, ducking under his arm and scarpering down the stairs, not hearing whatever his father yells after him, muffling it with a slam of the front door.

Fuck, his dad always gets him angry, even when he does nothing.

He’s fuming so much that he doesn’t even realise he’s in the shop until he spots a familiar figure in front of him at the counter. He quickly grabs some Nurofen from a nearby shelf and queues up behind him, half-praying Dave will see him and half-praying he’ll leave without a word.

“Thank you,” Dave says to the cashier, spinning around to leave – and coming face to face with John. The look of surprise on his face is palpable, and would be funny if John wasn’t so fucking angry right now. John pushes past him and slams the Nurofen down on the counter. The frightened cashier rings it up for him without even asking him for proof of age – no doubt he thinks John in his black hoodie and black skinnies is going to stab him for not letting him have some paracetamol. Idiot.

“Someone’s angry,” Dave says in an amused tone when John stomps past him out of the shop.

“Don’t try it,” John says warningly. He’s not in the mood for Dave’s games.

“I wasn’t going to,” Dave says innocently, in a tone that suggests that he totally was going to try it. “I just wondered how my sister’s doing, but that tells me all I need to know.” He nods at the box of Nurofen that John’s practically crushing with how hard he’s holding it. He relinquishes his grip a little, relaxing the rest of his tense muscles and slows down enough for Dave to catch up with him.

“Sorry,” John says, breathing out a huge sigh to calm himself down. “Yeah, Rose’s shit at handling alcohol.”

“You guys are a bad influence,” Dave says, shaking his head. John snorts.

“As if you never got her drunk before,” he says, and Dave remains silent. “Are you seriously telling me that you’ve never given Rose alcohol before? Come off it; she told me you go off drinking with Cronus and Eridan all the time.”

“I’ve never let her have a drop of alcohol,” Dave says calmly. “I don’t want her to end up like me.” John immediately feels guilty. He’s been the one providing Rose with a way to drink.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, I didn’t realise.” Dave waves his apology away as they start down the road again.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he says dismissively. “She can make her own decisions. I’m not gonna deny her what she wants.” They continue in silence for a while, drawing nearer and nearer to John’s house until they’re right outside. John turns to face Dave, biting his lip as he considers what he’s going to say next.

“You can…y’know, join us,” he offers. Dave shakes his head.

“I don’t think I’d be welcome with your friends,” he says gently. John nods, trying not to look too disappointed – he’s not entirely sure why he thought Dave was going to agree, anyway.

“Okay,” he says, and he makes to turn away, but Dave catches his wrist, spinning him back around to face Dave. John gazes at him in confusion for a few seconds, Dave’s eyes searching his own, before Dave presses his lips to John's in a quick, chaste kiss.

“Bye,” he says.

“Bye,” John says, dazed. Dave kisses him once more, letting go of his wrist and smiling before turning away and walking back up the road to his house. And that’s when John realises - that’s the first time he’s seen Dave genuinely smile.

Eyes behind shades can hide a lot.


	11. you're better with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter melted me it MELTED ME   
> those last lines w/ dave just aw   
> anyway i used some pierce the veil lyrics so yeah

John’s house seems to be the hotspot for people to congregate. In fact, none of them leave over the weekend, so John has to quietly usher them one by one over fences and across gardens and the stream as stealthily as he possibly can to smuggle them into school. He feels like a ninja, until he trips up over his undone laces just before jumping over the stream, stumbling and almost falling face first into the stream, only stopped by a strong hand pulling him out of the way of the water just in time.

“Thanks,” John says with a shy grin in Tavros’s direction, and Tavros smiles back, letting his hand drop from John’s bicep and accidentally trailing it across John’s forearm in the process.

Accidentally.

John jogs to the rest of the group to hide his blush – fuck, why does Tavros still affect him like that, after all the times they’d talked and agreed shit? – and leads them up the driveway to the street their school is on. He can feel Tavros’s eyes on him all the way to school, and does nothing to counter it, even throwing a few glances back in his direction and watching a blush spread across Tavros’s cheeks, heart aching slightly as he does so.

What does it matter? He can pretend, right?

They’ve got Music first, so all of them but Rose (who claims that everyone’s leaving her) traipses up to the Music block, John in front of Tavros and behind Sollux. He lets his hands swing a little too low, and he feels Tavros’s hands brush against his own as he hurries up to walk at John’s side.

“You should come and listen to our piece today,” he says to John.

“I don’t even have a piece yet,” John complains. “All I’ve spent Music doing is fighting Dave.”

“And kissing him,” Sollux mutters. John shoots him a dark look, and Sollux grins at him innocently. Neither of them notice Tavros lapsing into unhappy silence.

“What was that?” Equius says.

“Nothing,” John says loudly, kicking Sollux before he can open his mouth again.

“You alright?” Rufioh asks Tavros gently, and Tavros nods unconvincingly. John shoots Sollux another look – look what you’ve done – and Sollux bites his lip, looking guilty. John needs to talk to Sollux again. He kind of wants to listen to their song anyway, just to see what he would be able to sound like if he didn’t spend every music lesson arguing with Dave and then being molested by him.

“I’ll come listen to you guys soon,” John says as they file off into their practice room. “I’ve just got to check Dave isn’t in my practice room.”

“Your practice room?” a faint Texan voice says from behind him. Tavros, Equius, Rufioh and Sollux stop in the doorway of their practice room to watch the drama unfold.

“Yes,” John responds smoothly. “Mine.”

“At the very least, it’s ours,” Dave says.

“I don’t particularly want to share anything with you,” John says.

“That’s not what it seemed like when you kissed me yesterday,” Dave retorts, and John glowers at him as Rufioh and Equius exchange shocked looks.

“You kissed me too,” John says accusingly, but Dave just smiles graciously. It makes John want to punch him in the face.

“Mr Megido suggested I give you some tips on this piece,” Dave says. “Since I’m an AS-Level student and you’re just GCSE.”

“Like fuck he did,” John growls, clenching his fists. “You just want an excuse to get me alone.”

“Who are you to deny me that?” Dave says. “You’re hardly a stranger to it, are you?”

“Not here,” John says, throwing a sideways glance at Rufioh and Equius, and just as Dave opens his mouth to respond John manhandles him down the corridor and into their practice room, slamming the door behind them and whirling around to face a smirking Dave. It’s that infuriating smirk again, the one that Dave gets when he’s purposefully being a dick, the one that hides everything he’s actually feeling underneath.

“Afraid your boyfriend’s going to get jealous?” Dave taunts.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” John says through gritted teeth. God, if he punches Dave, just this once, will it actually be that bad?

“Yet,” Dave says casually, examining his nails nonchalantly as he slides into a chair. John hates how every movement he makes is more graceful than the last, as if he were some kind of ballerina swan. John feels like a constipated elephant next to him.

“If you’re getting any ideas-“ Dave cuts him off with a laugh.

“Oh, I’m not getting ideas, John,” he says. “There are some things you just inherently know.”

“I am never going to date you, Dave,” John hisses.

“Okay,” Dave sing-songs in that accepting-yet-disbelieving tone that people use when they know it’ll piss the other person off even more. It does just that, getting John’s blood to boiling point. Fuck punching Dave, he’s going to kill Dave.

“I’m going to leave you here,” John says, “and when I come back, you’d better either be fucking gone or mute.”

“Off to see your boyfriend?” Dave asks with a smirk, and that’s it, John’s had enough. He storms up to Dave and slaps him once sharply across the face, his palm making a satisfying smack sound against the smooth skin of Dave’s cheek.

“Fuck you,” John spits, throwing one last look at Dave, who looks as taken-aback and shocked as John’s ever seen him, clutching his hand to his face as he watches John leave in wonder.

John’s still fuming when he gets to Tavros, Equius, Sollux and Rufioh’s practice room, which is unsurprising as it’s only three rooms away. He slams the door open with more force than required, and everyone inside stops what they were doing abruptly to stare at him. Tavros looks away as soon as he realises it’s John, however, and John frowns slightly.

“I slapped Dave,” he announces, and it feels so good to say that. His hand fucking hurts, but in the best way possible.

“You did fucking what?” Equius practically shrieks, and Rufioh jumps in fright at the volume in his ear, swatting at Equius in fright.

“Fucking hell, Equius, keep it down,” he moans, clutching his racing heart dramatically.

“Yeah,” John says, edging into the room and closing the door behind him, sitting on a spare chair. “Fuck, it feels so great. I hope I left a mark.”

“Good on you, man,” Sollux says with a grin. “Wanna hear our song now?”

“Er…” John says, glancing at the door and then back at the collected group of his friends in front of him. “Sure,” he says eventually, although Tavros doesn’t look too pleased about it. Great.

Rufioh nods and gets behind his drum kit that’s falling apart, Sollux picks up his three-string-bass, Equius sits down on the chair because his guitar has no strap and Tavros, the only one with a properly working instrument, moves to stand behind the microphone and strums his guitar nervously.

“Alright,” he says, his voice amplified so it rings in John’s ears from every direction of the room, bouncing off the walls. Everyone nods, and Rufioh clicks his sticks four times.

They launch into the song, everyone looking utterly concentrated on their own instruments. John has to admit the look of concentration on Tavros’s face is so adorable that as soon as he looks at someone else his eyes stray back to Tavros. That’s not his fault, though.

And suddenly after their short introduction, Tavros’s moving back up to the microphone and opening his mouth, starting to sing.

“I laid down, I drank the poison then I passed the fuck out, now let me tell you ‘bout the good life.” He’s still not looking at John, anywhere but John, in fact, and it’s unnerving him, who slides his eyes over to Sollux.

“I have a million different kinds of fun, when I’m asleep and in a dream that I’m your only one. Can we create something beautiful, and destroy it? Nobody knows I dream about it, this is my imagination,” Tavros sings, and suddenly he’s looking at John, straight at John, straight through John, and John knows those lyrics are about him. John knows what Tavros’s singing about, who Tavros’s singing to, why Tavros’s singing his heart out as if no one’s going to hear him in any other way.

Tavros’s almost finished the second verse by the time John shakes himself out of this revelation, so all he hears is ‘treat me right’ before Tavros launches into the pre-chorus.

“Oh what a waste of a perfectly good clean wrist,” he says, and his voice is dripping with meaning, the words are oozing with importance, and John blanches.

Shit.

“Can we create something beautiful and destroy it?” Tavros asks, singing directly at John, gazing at him unblinkingly. John stares back, not daring to break eye contact. How has nobody else noticed what this song is about? How has Sollux not noticed?

All too soon, the song is over, ending with another guitar riff played by Tavros over the rest of the instruments before the instruments stop and Tavros’s playing alone, unsupported.

Just like Tavros.

“What do you think?” Sollux asks excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Er, yeah,” John says, snapping back into reality. “Yeah, it’s really good.” And it is. They sound raw, of course, a little rough around the edges and maybe a little unpracticed, but that’s to be expected. They’re only starting, after all, and it is really fucking good for a starting band. 

“Are you sure?” Equius frowns. “I mean, I know Rufioh messed up a bit-“

“Fuck you, I did not, okay, you were going too fast-“

“-but was it okay? In all honesty.”

“In all honesty?” John says. “Fuck yeah. Man, I’d buy your album.” Sollux grins.

“We’re working on it,” he says.

“I’d better get back to Dave,” John mumbles, wanting to get out of the room, out of Tavros’s line of vision, away from Tavros.

“I’ll come with you. Make sure Dave doesn’t kill you,” Tavros offers, and John closes his eyes briefly. Dave might not kill him, but being alone with Tavros almost certainly will. Especially after that song.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I slapped him, I can face him.”

“No, no,” Tavros insists, and John has the feeling he’s not really going to help John to his and Dave’s practice room. He wants to talk.

Too bad John doesn’t want to.

“I’m fine, seriously,” John says, scarpering out of the door before Tavros can protest once again. He doesn’t make it down the corridor in time, though, as strong hands grab his biceps from behind and shove him roughly into another, disused practice room.

“Jesus Christ,” John mutters, stumbling backwards over some upside down chairs in the relative darkness of the room, the only light coming from the small window on the door. “How fucking fast are you?”

“Fast enough for you,” Tavros retorts. “Did you like the song?” John laughs sharply. Trick question.

“Is it true?” he asks after a moment. “What you said, about…” he doesn’t want to say it. If he doesn’t say it, it won’t be true, right?

Wrong.

Tavros, face shining in the weak light filtering in from the window on the door, says nothing, but rolls the sleeve of his shirt up. There, on his left arm, are five fresh scars, closer to the wrist than any of his others.

“Tavros,” John whispers, a lump forming in his throat as he brings his hand up to catch the back of Tavros’s hand, holding the back of his wrist as he stares at the scars. “Is that…?”

“Because of us,” Tavros says, and he sounds ashamed. “I-I’m sorry, you didn’t have to…I shouldn’t have…” He pulls his arm away from John’s grasp, pulling the sleeve down over it again. John doesn’t say anything, just gazing at the spot Tavros’s wrist had just vacated.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers after a moment. Fuck, he should never have kissed Tavros in the first place. All it did was cause pain and trouble.

“Don’t be, it was me, I was stupid.”

“It wasn’t,” John says. “You…you understand why we…we can’t, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Tavros says unhappily. “I…I dunno, I mean…I feel selfish, but…I don’t want you to be with Dave.” John bites his lip, looking away.

“I know,” John says just as unhappily. “Sollux’s better for you, though, Tavros.”

“Dave’s not better for you,” Tavros insists. “He treats everyone like shit. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“He’s different,” John says.

“He didn’t seem different today.”

“He does that,” John sighs. It’s hard to explain, Dave’s hard to explain, because suddenly John’s starting to feel more than just that general pull towards him, something bigger that’s scaring him and making him want to push it out of his mind. After all, it can’t be there if he chooses not to acknowledge it.

“Was the rest of the song about me as well?” John asks after a moment of silence. Tavros hesitates, then nods.

“We had something beautiful,” he begins.

“And we destroyed it,” John finishes for him, his stomach sinking. He destroyed it. He’s starting to question his own decision.

But here, looking at the perfect wreckage in front of him, he knows he has to do it anyway, whether he regrets it or not. Sollux’s better for Tavros, and – God forbid – Dave might actually be better for him.

“We can’t keep doing this,” John says, leaning back.

“I don’t want to stop,” Tavros whispers, and John realises he’s crying. Shit.

“You know we have to,” John says heavily, although he doesn’t particularly want to either.

“I miss you,” Tavros says

“I know,” John says. He doesn’t want to go behind Sollux’s back – Dave he doesn’t give a shit about – but it is hard to be so close to Tavros yet have to stay so far away. “The more we do it, the harder it’ll be to stop, though.”

“I know,” Tavros says tearfully, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt. John’s heart breaks a little more. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” John says gently. “We just…we need to stop. Or be straight with them. Or both.” Tavros sighs, nodding.

“Okay,” he says. John smiles wryly and leans forwards, sliding his arms around Tavros' shoulders, hugging him, for the last time.

He doesn’t want to think about that.

They break apart after a good few minutes, and Tavros gazes at John a few more moments before turning and walking out of the door. Tavros hears the door to Equius, Rufioh, Tavros and Sollux’s practice room open and close and lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t even realise he’d been holding, walking out of the darkened practice room unsteadily. He doesn’t think he’ll make it to his and Dave’s practice room without collapsing or bursting into tears.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because right outside their practice room strong arms catch him, and he collapses onto a warm body, sobbing into the person’s shoulder. He doesn’t even have to ask who it is, doesn’t have to see the person’s face.

“You know you had to,” Dave whispers from above him, wrapping his arms around John’s waist and holding him close to his body, keeping him safe, protected. “You know he’s better with Sollux. You know you’re better with me.”

John, for once, realises Dave is right.


	12. fall in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's gettin real boys  
> like really real  
> thank you to everyone for reading this ahh <3

The next day sucks. It sucks so much that John wants to leave and go back home as soon as he steps into the school grounds. The mere sight of Tavros sitting there, picking dejectedly at the grass in front of him, half-breaks his heart and half-makes his stomach sink. Sitting next to him – too close for John’s liking, but he pushes that thought out of his mind – is Sollux. It’s slightly comforting, though, knowing that Tavros has someone to see him through whatever. John admires Sollux, admires his dedication to Tavros and his love for Tavros – no matter how much John loved someone, he’s almost certain he’d never be able to see them with anyone else, whether the attraction was weaker or not. He’s just not that strong.

He still needs to talk to Sollux, he realises with an inward groan. Especially after yesterday. Sollux deserves to know.

“Hey,” Rufioh greets as he walks over, dodging another fistful of grass from Sollux, who grins up at John in welcome. “You going to lessons?”

“A couple, yeah,” John says, sitting down. He’s only skipping Chemistry today, actually, and that’s mainly because he doesn’t think he can take another hour of Mr Makara droning on and on about nanoscience. “You?”

“Nah,” Equius says. “We went to enough yesterday to last us for the rest of the week.”

“You went to one,” Sollux says.

“You went to one,” Equius throws back.

“I’m going to some today,” Sollux counters proudly. Rose snorts.

“Like what?” she says.

“Spanish,” Sollux says.

“That doesn’t count,” Rufioh says. “You're already fluent.” Sollux’s aim has apparently improved, as Rufioh’s hit with a faceful of grass.

“Do you go to Spanish?” Sollux says. “No.”

“I took my GCSE already,” Rufioh points out. “In Year Seven.” Sollux apparently has no counter-argument, so settles for another handful of grass. Rufioh squeals (in what he later recalls to be a ‘manly noise of disapproval’) and scrambles to his feet, darting behind the tree as Sollux runs after him with fistfuls of grass. It’s like the first time they were together all over again, and that makes John’s heart ache a little bit. This is what it was like before he fucked Tavros up, before he fucked himself up, before Dave fucked him up, before everything got fucked. John half-wishes he could turn back time and make it never happen. He’s clearly insane. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rose mutters next to John, rolling her eyes, and John frowns, squinting in the direction Rose’s glaring.

“What?” Equius asks, turning in the same direction.

“Wait,” Rose says, getting to her feet and marching off angrily. John can make out a shape in the distance, but the angle of the sun prevents him from seeing exactly who it is. He guesses it’s Dave, though; who else would Rose speak to so irritably?

The two stand there and seemingly debate for a while, Rose gesticulating wildly as she does so.

“What’s going on?” Equius asks, shielding his eyes against the sun in order to get a better look. John copies him, but to no avail; all he can see now is slightly less blurry outlines of people and the back of Rose's head.

Eventually, however, Rose drops her hands at her side in what seems to be exasperated defeat and marches back over to the group, and Sollux having joined them, panting, asking what’s going on.

“John,” he says sharply, and John frowns. “Dave wants to talk to you.” John stares over at the figure shadowed by the sun – fuck – and gets up wordlessly.

“Do you know what about?” Rufioh asks worriedly. “He’s not going to hit you, is he? I’ll fuck him up if he does.” Rose laughs humourlessly.

“Oh, hitting John is the last thing Dave has on his mind,” she says, and John’s not entirely sure what to make of that or just how fucking angry Rose seems, but he leaves and makes his way over to Dave anyway.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, when he gets close enough. “Rose’s fucking pissed, man, what did you do?”

“Long story,” Dave says dismissively. “Can I talk to you?”

“Couldn’t you have waited?” John moans, rolling his eyes. “Fuck, Dave, everyone thinks you’re here to beat me up.”

“I just wanted to know you’re okay,” Dave says with a half-shy shrug. John’s heart softens a little.

“I’m fine,” he says, a little more gently. “You could have asked me that at any time. Did you have to come here now?”

“Well,” Dave says, slightly awkwardly. “You’re with Tavros, and Sollux, and I thought…” Yeah, that’s definitely John’s heart melting now. Great.

“I’m fine,” he repeats. “I promise. I’ll see you later, alright? We have Music last, right?”

“Yeah,” Dave says, but he sounds kind of distant and detached. He’s staring over John’s shoulder at someone in the group, and John glances backwards to see it’s Tavros.

Fucking great.

“Don’t start shit,” John warns. “They’re my friends.”

“Rose’s my sister,” Dave reminds him.

“Rufioh’s Tavros’s brother,” John says, watching Dave’s eyes slide over to the lankier brother. “Come on, Dave.”

“Yeah,” Dave says. “See you in Music.” And just like that, he turns his back on John and leaves.

John has literally no idea what to make of that conversation.

“What did he want?” Equius demands when John ambles back over, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing much,” John says, sitting down.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” Rose bursts out. Everyone turns to stare at her. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Rufioh asks, utterly confused. Sollux, Tavros and John share a look. Shit.

“That John and Dave are a thing,” Rose says, and Rufioh and Equius inhale sharply.

“What the fuck?” Equius says.

“Are you mental?” Rufioh practically shrieks. Sollux and Tavros remain silent, not making eye contact with anybody.

“So they knew?” Rose says accusingly. “Tavros and Sollux, they knew? Yet you chose not to tell any of us – Tavros, you didn’t tell your brother, and Dave didn’t tell me? As if I would have judged you or hated you.”

“I wasn’t afraid of that!” John protests, even though he kind of was. It just…well. For one thing, it seemed more fun as a secret, and for another, it was much better to keep it on the down low for everyone involved; Tavros, Sollux, John and Dave. “It’s…it goes a lot deeper than that.”

“I’m sure it does,” Rose says sarcastically.

“Jesus, why are you being such a twat about it?” John explodes suddenly. “It’s my fucking private life, I can choose what details I want to divulge with whom.”

“Because we’re friends! And he’s my brother,” Rose spits. “You’d think you’d tell someone if you were fucking their brother, right?”

“Not if their brother is the infamous school bully!” John shouts back. “Fuck, I’m done. I don’t want to hear another word about this.” And he stands up, brushes himself down and stomps off without a backwards glance.

He doesn’t give a shit anymore.   
-  
Luckily, Rose’s not in their last subject; Music. Rufioh and Equius aren’t mad at him; they’re far more understanding, and Rufioh’s not even mad at Tavros for not telling him. John’s actually surprised that Tavros didn’t tell, but he guesses that would involve spilling the whole story and Tavros’s hardly keen for everyone to know that. Tavros and Sollux are sympathetic, telling John that Rose’s overreacting, she's just a silly girl, and that everything will be okay by tomorrow. 

He doesn’t really want to spend time with Dave either, though, especially after today’s debacle, so he hangs around in Tavros, Sollux, Rufioh and Equius’s practice room instead (it really is easier to call them the Sexicans. Can he do that? Refer to them as the Sexicans in his own head? Fuck it; he’s going to). They’re rehearsing yesterday’s song – apparently, they’ve been struggling for a title (so far Rufioh’s suggested Sexican Song One, Mexicore Band of Sexicans Play Songs #1, Song Where Only The First Line Is About Alcohol So Clearly Only The First Line Matters and You So Do Not Have A Million Girls You Filthy Liar You’re A Flaming Homosexual, all of which have been firmly rejected (mainly by Tavros)) – and another song that Tavros’s keen for John to hear.

“Guys, can we play him The First Punch?” Tavros whines, drooping his arms over the microphone stand.

“I don’t like The First Punch,” Equius whines back, pouting. “Can’t we do, like, Stay Away From My Friends?”

“Oh yeah, let me just grab my invisible piano,” Tavros says sarcastically, gesturing around the piano-less room.

“Fuck you,” Equius mutters, but he tunes out of the conversation to fiddle with his guitar instead.

“What about Props?” Rufioh suggests. Tavros frowns.

“Come on,” he says, gazing at Sollux pleadingly. “First Punch, please?”

“Fine,” Sollux sighs. “You’re the only one who likes it, though, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tavros sing-songs with a grin. “Ready?” Everyone nods, and Tavros yells a quick countdown (countup? He starts from one, either way), and begins the song.

The song seems unremarkable until the chorus, and John’s beginning to wonder why Tavros was so adamant that he hear that particular song when everyone else seems to hate it so much, when Tavros switches from the faster, erratic beat of the verse into the softer pre-chorus.

“Speak slow now, I don’t want to miss when you cry,” he sings. “Glass over diamond blue eyes. And it’s good enough to make me want to fall in love, so move a little bit closer, hear the sound of your voice. We’re screaming ‘why can’t we just be friends?’ It’s not that easy, but it’s half of the fun to see you throw the first punch.”

John’s half-overcome with wonder with how Tavros manages to fit hundreds of thousands of words of meaning into a couple of lines of music and half-unsure what Tavros’s expecting him to do with this information.

“I’ve got so much to give but, I would kill just to feel less invisible,” Tavros sings. “And you’ve got so much to learn about gravity, so live it up, baby, don’t look down.”

Shit. Everything Tavros writes has so much fucking meaning behind it that John finds it hard to fathom. He can’t put that much meaning in a poem, a novel, anything, and Tavros manages it in a few lyrics. It’s highly unfair, yet ridiculously perfect. John wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That’s one of our shittest ones-“ Equius starts as soon as the song is finished, looking bored and a little pissed off that Tavros made him play it.

“No,” John says, directing it at Equius but staring at Tavros. “It…has a lot of meaning.” Tavros raises his eyebrows and smirks. Damn right it does. Cocky bastard.

“It’s a piece of shit,” Rufioh exclaims, throwing his sticks onto the snare and making a sound that resonates throughout the entire room.

“It’s not,” John says, and it’s not, although he sounds less than reassuring. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Sollux demands, but John ignores him, slipping out of the door and hurrying down the corridor to his and Dave’s practice room, hoping Dave’s in there. He is – for once, luck is actually acknowledging John’s existence – and John walks in, making Dave look up from his guitar in surprise as he does so.

“Hello,” Dave says. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight.”

“Tonight?” John frowns, confused.

“Yeah, you usually have an existential crisis at midnight every couple of days,” Dave says with a grin, and John scowls at him, although there’s no heat behind it.

“Fuck you,” he growls playfully. Dave smirks.

“If you insist,” he says graciously, and John’s scowl deepens.

“I heard their song,” Dave says after a moment, casually, as if he’s just thinking about it. John knows better, though. “Good, isn’t it?”

“Like the lyrics, did you?” John says, folding his arms, and Dave smirks.

“Hell yeah,” he says. “It is half of the fun to see you throw the first punch.”

“I did,” John points out. “Half the fun is over.”

“Still got half of it left to enjoy then, right?” Dave says, putting his guitar to one side and standing up, walking towards John and slipping an arm around his waist. John doesn’t even try to stop him, even leaning into his touch a little.

“Better make the most of it,” John mumbles, and he watches Dave light up a little as he grins before he leans down to kiss John. John kisses back right away, pressing against Dave as much as he can, glasses clinking together. He feels safe in Dave’s arms, secure, protected, and that’s better than he’s felt in years. When he’s in Dave’s arms, he feels like nothing can penetrate their little bubble, like nothing can get in and cause him pain.

And it’s good enough to make him want to fall in love.


	13. this is my note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-) thanks to everyone for leaving such kind feedback  
> i really appreciate it

“Morning,” a familiar yet unfamiliar voice chirps when John stumbles downstairs the next morning. He looks up blearily to see his grandma sitting at the glass table, with her baking apron on.

“When did you get back?” he asks with a frown.

“Last night,” John’s grandmother says, ignoring Jade, who’s tapping her cutlery against the table. “You were asleep.”

“For once,” Jade puts in, and John throws her a glare. He knows his grandmother disapproves of his ‘rebellious’ lifestyle, so he tends not to mention it in front of her.

“I spoke to your father,” she starts, and John rolls his eyes, making to leave the room. He doesn’t want or need to hear this. “No, listen to me,” his grandma insists, and John stops, heaving a dramatic sigh as he turns around to face her.

“What?” he asks.

“Apparently you’ve been drinking a lot.”

“And?”

“And, John, you know that’s not how we want you to live your life.”

“But it’s how I want to live my life,” John says. “And you’re not around enough to tell me how to live it, to be honest.” He shrugs; harsh, but true. His family aren’t really family, more acquaintances, family friends. He and Jade are a family.

“John,” his grandma says disapprovingly, but John walks out of the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder, stomach grumbling as he walks away from the food. He’s approximately five minutes earlier than he otherwise would be, so he slams the front door and makes to amble down the road to Rose’s house – before he remembers Rose’s mad at him. Great.

Before he can turn back and start heading to school, however, the door of Rose and Dave’s house clicks open, and Rose and Dave walk out. Rose catches sight of John and both of them freeze. Dave doesn’t notice either of them, however, walking over to his car and unlocking it with a click of his key.

John makes to walk away, bowing his head as he breaks eye contact with Rose, but Rose yells his name as he turns his back.

“John!” she shouts, and John swivels back around. Rose’s jogging up the street, and John tries to mask the surprise on his face.

“Rose?” he says tentatively as Rose draws closer.

“Look, I spoke to Dave and I get it, I’m sorry, you didn’t have to tell me anything, I was being a prissy girl, I don’t-“

“It’s fine,” John assures her. “Did…did Dave tell you everything?”

“No, he just told me how stupid I was being,” Rose says, carding a hand through her platinum hair. “Honestly, John, I’m surprised you didn’t slap me; I was being such a little cun-“

“It’s fine,” John says. “Trust me.”

“So we’re cool, right?” Rose looks anxious, biting her lip and frowning. John grins at her.

“Yeah,” he says. Rose’s face clears and she smiles warmly back at John.

“Want a lift?” she says. “You can ride shotgun,”

“How gracious of you,” John says. Rose smirks.

“No,” she says, “I just don’t want to see you giving Dave love-eyes all the time.” John glowers at her.

“I do not give anyone love-eyes, let alone Dave,” he says. Rose raises an eyebrow in the same infuriating way Dave does.

“Sure you don’t,” she says in the same infuriating tone Dave uses, and John wants to punch her in the face. He’s disfigured one Strider sibling, though, so that’s enough.

For now.  
-  
The ride to school is uneventful; Rose chatters nineteen-to-the-dozen, apparently so relieved that John’s not mad at her that she can’t stop talking. Dave slides John a few sideways glances, but John pretends he doesn’t notice them, sliding a few back himself when he thinks Dave’s not looking.

They all tumble out of the car at school, Rose slamming her door rather enthusiastically as she talks about John's cute maid and how John's cute maid was going out with her on the weekend – John’s not entirely sure what she’s talking about, he’s been too busy focusing on the little looks Dave’s been giving him to concentrate on anything else.

“-she's really interesting, did you know she has a surprising taste for fashion, and gardening, just like your cousin John!-“

“Hey!” Rufioh yells as they draw nearer. “Anyone up for saving me from Sollux?”

“Nah,” John says. “You must have done something to make him want to chuck shit at you every day.”

“I didn’t!” Rufioh protests, dodging another sausage roll from Sollux, who’s taken to throwing food at him again. “Dammit, Sol, do you want to fucking not?”

“I’m doing fine as it is,” Sollux says with a shit-eating grin, ducking swiftly as Rufioh clumsily aims a sausage roll back at him. “Come on, Rufi, that’s not how it works; I chuck shit at you, not the other way around.”

“Fuck you,” Rufioh says, but he sounds amused.

“Hey, I need the toilet,” John says. Five faces turn to stare at him blankly.

“Okay,” Tavros says. “Go.” 

“Why are you telling us?” Rufioh asks.

“I don’t give a shit about your urination habits,” Rose says, bemused.

“Why do I need to know that?” Equius asks.

“Er…Sollux, you wanna come with me?” John says. Sollux frowns at him, opening his mouth – presumably to say why the fuck would I want to come and watch you pee, man, are we girls or what – before realising what John wants and snapping his mouth shut.

“Uh, sure,” he says, and the both of them get to their feet.

“Are you going off to fuck?” Rufioh asks suspiciously.

“Are you girls?” Equius asks. Rose gives him a snarky look.

John settles for flipping both of them off as he walks with Sollux to the little alleyway where all the stoner kids hang out at break and lunch. 

“So?” Sollux asks, leaning against the wall. “Did you sort shit out with Dave?”

“Kind of,” John says. “How are things looking with you and Tavros?” Sollux’s small smile speaks volumes.

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean, we’re not together or anything, but.” He ducks his head, grinning, and John finds himself smiling as well, which is weird. Because this is the first time he’s felt genuinely happy that Tavros and Sollux are doing well together, and he’s not sure whether it’s to do with him being relatively happy with Dave or him finally letting Tavros go, and Tavros letting him go. Maybe it’s just because he knows Tavros will be happier with Sollux, Tavros deserves Sollux, and Sollux sure as fuck deserves Tavros, if not more. Sollux’s been so good throughout all this; John doesn’t know how he’s managed to cope with Tavros blatantly flirting with John right in front of him. John wouldn’t have managed. John would have flipped.

“That’s good,” John says, and he actually means it. “I’m so happy for you guys. You’re good for each other.”

“So are you and Dave,” Sollux says. “I would never have pegged you guys for the types, though.” John sighs.

“Yeah,” he says. “I would never have put us down for it either. Fuck, I hated Dave when I first came here.” He can’t even remember the moment it changed. He doesn’t know if it has changed – he still fucking hates Dave, still wants to punch him in the face, just kind of wants to kiss him and fuck him and whisper filthy words into his ear at the same time now. He’s not sure what to think about that.

“He helps, though,” John says after a moment. “With all the shit going on in my life.” Sollux raises his head again and smiles at John, the kind of knowing smile that John hates.

“Well,” he says. “Maybe you’ll be able to help him too.” And he doesn’t explain what he means, doesn’t say a word, just smirks at John, pushes himself off the wall and walks back to the Sexicans-plus-Rose-and-Equius (whatever, like anyone knows John’s calling them that now), swinging his hips rather more sassily than necessary.

John stares after him, thoughts running in and out of his mind so fast they’re barely making sense anymore.

What did he mean?  
-  
John doesn’t go home that night either. He doesn’t want to see his grandma, because he knows he’ll just get another lecture if he does, so he wanders the streets before remembering that the bridge exists and heading over there. It’s dusk by that time, though, because it’s starting to get darker and colder earlier, and by the time he actually reaches the bridge it’s actually dark. It gives him a perfect view of the night sky, though, of the twinkling specks of light studding the sky and the moon which is bathing him in silvery light. John swings himself onto the edge of the bridge, dangling his legs over the water and staring up at the sky. He really does feel so calm here, so detached from the world, so lonesome but in the best way possible.

Except apparently he’s not alone, because someone’s swinging their legs over the bridge next to him, gazing up at the same stars and the same moon that he’s staring at.

“Calming, isn’t it?” the person says, and John realises it’s Dave. “Sollux told me you spoke to him.”

“Since when were you friends with Sollux?” John demands. Dave’s wry smile is almost audible.

“I wouldn’t say friends,” he says carefully. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” John thinks it does, but he’s not in the mood to push it. He doesn’t want to fight, not here, not when he feels okay and content and relatively happy.

“You know what else I love about the stars?” Dave says thoughtfully.

“There’s more?” John says sarcastically, and Dave swats at him playfully.

“Yeah, you little shit,” he says. “Look at the moon.”

“I’m looking,” John says.

“How many other people do you think are looking at the moon right now?”

“Probably thousands,” John shrugs. “Why?”

“Right. There are thousands of us looking at the same thing, all connected through one common chunk of rock in outer space that’s shining down on us, illuminating half the world right now. Now look at the stars.”

“Yeah,” John says, shifting his gaze so he’s gazing at the glimmering dots in the jet-black of the sky. “What about them?”

“How many other people do you think are looking at the stars right now?”

“Probably thousands,” John repeats. “Why?”

“Because every single person sees the stars differently. Every single one of us can see different stars, or is drawn to certain constellations, or doesn’t see the stars at all. Some people can see the stars, but aren’t looking at them – some people are looking at them, but can’t see them. Some people can see shooting stars. Some people can see stars we can’t. We can see stars some others can’t. Some people are only looking at the bright stars, ignoring the fainter ones in the distance. Some people are only looking at the fainter ones in the distance, not acknowledging the bright ones. And some people are simply staring at the moon, the close, safe, secure moon.”

“And some people,” John says. “Some people are looking at the streetlights.” Dave huffs out a laugh, but it’s a thoughtful laugh rather than one that’s making fun of what John’s just said.

“Sollux told me you said that I help you,” Dave says after a few moments of silence. John’s suddenly glad it’s dark, as it hides both his scowl and his blush; both of which Dave can probably guess he’s sporting anyway, but whatever. Innocent until proven guilty.

“Twat,” John mutters.

“You help me too,” Dave says. “More than you realise.”

“Why?” John asks. “How?” Dave doesn’t reply, instead rummaging around in his coat pocket for something which he hands to John – a piece of paper.

“Here,” he says.

“What’s this?” John asks.

“Read it,” Dave says, so John unfolds it and holds it in as much moonlight as he can, squinting to make out the words.

This is my note.

Goodbye.

“What is this?” John asks, reading the words over and over again. It kind of looks like…but it can’t be-

“A suicide note,” Dave says. John inhales sharply. “The night I found you on the street, and we went to the bridge together. I was planning to throw myself off it.”

“Jesus,” John whispers, staring at the paper in the darkness. It feels suddenly heavy in his hands. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I’m glad I didn’t, too,” Dave says. “It’s just a struggle being alive sometimes, y’know? But I’m starting to find things a little more…enjoyable.” He shrugs.

“Please,” John says. “Don’t…don’t do it.” Dave could throw himself off right now, John realises with a jolt, and John wouldn’t be able to anything about it. Fuck.

“Here,” Dave says, taking the scrap of paper back off John. John watches as he crumples it into a ball before throwing it, the paper arching gracefully through the air before plummeting into darkness the moonlight can’t penetrate.

“I’ve thrown away the streetlights, and I’ve thrown away the moon,” Dave says, gazing into the darkness below them. “All I’ve got left for me is the stars.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John asks. He’s not in the mood for astrophysical metaphors.

“It means I’m going to live.”


	14. three-forty am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 moooree chappteersss.

The rest of the week passes relatively uneventfully. John starts attending even fewer lessons than usual, meaning his grades slip even lower because he doesn’t apply himself, inducing more arguments with his grandmother. His father’s away until Saturday, though, so he can’t really bring himself to care that much until he wakes up on Saturday afternoon, still slightly intoxicated from the night before, with the Sexicans, Sollux, Equius and Rose in his room.

“Hey,” someone’s slurring sleepily. “John, your- your dad. Wants to talk.” John groans, closing his eyes and burying his face in the pillow. Great.

“Well?” Tavros prompts. “Are you gonna go talk to him, or?” 

“I’d rather not,” John mumbles, muffled by the pillow, but he knows he has to, so, with a heavy sigh, he heaves himself out of bed and walks over to the door.

“What?” he asks tiredly when he steps outside, coming face-to-face with his father.

“Your friends been drinking again, have they?” his father says disdainfully, with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust on his face.

“Yeah,” John says defiantly. “What about it?”

“I will not tolerate this in my house,” his father sneers. “Especially not from my own son.”

“I don’t count myself as your son,” John says, spitting the word out like it’s got a horrible taste. It does, if he’s honest; he hates that he’s his father’s son.

“You live under my roof, so you follow my rules,” his father hisses. “No more drinking.”

“Whatever,” John says, turning back to stomp into the room, rather more emphatically than he’d hoped.

“Hey!” Rose moans groggily, when John almost treads on her face. “Watch it.” John doesn’t reply, stalking back over and rolling into bed, groaning into his pillow.

“What’s up?” Tavros asks, sounding concerned.

“Daddy issues,” Sollux says, and the smirk is almost audible in his voice. John lifts his hand to give him the finger – what a twat – but karma gets Sollux first, as he mumbles ‘Oh God’ and runs off to the ensuite bathroom. John sighs, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the whitewashed ceiling blankly.

“Wanna talk about it?” Tavros offers, and John shakes his head. He doesn’t – not with Tavros, anyway.

“I’ll be back,” he says suddenly, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and standing on Equius’ arm, ignoring his pained protest as he walks swiftly out of the door, down the stairs and onto the street.

It’s colder than he was expecting – but then again, it is starting to get colder; he’s lived through enough winters already, he should know how they work – and he wraps his arms around himself as he walks hastily up the street, up to Dave’s house, knocking on the door and shivering slightly in the cold.

“Hello dear,” the woman who unlocks the door (presumably Dave and Rose’s mother, unless they have a dark secret they’re hiding from him) says. “Aren’t you Rosey’s friend?”

“Yeah,” John says awkwardly. “Uh, is Dave in?” The woman smiles, and yells Dave’s name up the stairs. John hears a faint, irritated ‘what’ come floating back down.

“There’s someone here to see you!” his mother yells.

“If it’s Cronus or Eridan, I’m not in,” Dave shouts back down.

“It’s Rosey’s friend, the nice looking black-haired one,” his mother yells back up, and there’s a sudden bang and the stampeding sound of footsteps, resulting in a dishevelled Dave appearing with a grin.

“Wasn’t expecting you,” he says. “Isn’t it a bit early?”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Dave’s mother says, grinning.

“Exactly,” Dave says. “Look, d’you wanna…go out somewhere?” He glances over at his mother so John can see – she’ll be checking up on us every three seconds otherwise – and John nods. Dave pulls a blue hoodie off the hooks by the door, chucking it at John before pulling another red one off for himself, ushering John out of the door and closing it behind them.

“Sorry,” Dave says, shrugging his hoodie on and watching John do the same as they walk down the driveway. “She’s nosey.”

“Don’t worry,” John says. “My dad’s the same.”

“Is that what you want to talk about?” Dave says, and John huffs out a laugh. Dave’s shrewder than he looks.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know,” he says. Does he want to talk about it? Not really; he just wants to be with Dave. Dave makes him feel better.

“Alright,” Dave says easily as they turn absent-mindedly off into the dirt track that leads to the bridge. John needs the calmness right now.

They stay silent until they reach the bridge, swinging their legs over easily and letting them dangle off the side. John can actually see the water, for once, and it’s really fucking far below them. It must be at least a hundred and fifty metres; the waterfall opposite them is cascading down into a foamy sea of white at the bottom, so it’s pretty fucking far. It’s absolutely beautiful, though.

“Why did you want to kill yourself?” John asks, and it’s a really personal question and he’s about to apologise for asking it when Dave answers.

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I guess it’s just because it’s easier than living. It’s not that I particularly hate life – I can continue my life, continue living it, sure – I just find no joy in it. Everything takes ridiculous effort and I have to battle countless mental and physical obstacles to get the simplest of things done. It’s just not the way I want things to be.”

“And suicide would…be the solution?” John asks carefully. Dave sighs.

“I don’t know,” he says heavily. “No one can really tell us, can they? It would put me to rest, either way.” John doesn’t say anything else, just listening to the roar of the water tumbling down into the river below them.

“You know,” Dave says after a while. “I never really believed in happiness.”

“Why?” John says, unsurprised. He’s starting to get used to Dave’s quirky little deep moments.

“Because I’d never experienced it. How can you believe in something you’ve never experienced?”

“I don’t know,” says John, “there are plenty of religious people out there.” Dave shakes his head, but he’s grinning, and that makes John smile.

“You know what I mean,” he says. “I never thought I’d actually be happy, or anywhere close to happy. But here, looking out at the water, sitting next to you…I’m content.”

And the little hitch of John’s lips is all Dave needs before they’re kissing, the roar of the waterfall drowning out anything else Dave wants to say.  
-  
It’s dusk by the time John and Dave leave the bridge, walking home side by side, hands brushing but neither of them brave enough to make the first move. John says goodbye to Dave outside his front door, but they don’t kiss – as much as Dave's mother would want to see that – before setting off back to his house. He gets about halfway down the street before he realises he doesn’t want to go home, not yet, not today. He doesn’t want to bother Dave again, though, so he sets off for Tavros’s house instead with a small smile on his face.

“Alright?” Tavros says, when he opens the door. “Where’s Dave?”

“He went home,” John says. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Tavros says, stepping aside to allow John entrance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“My father,” John says with a grimace. “Do you mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” Tavros says, ushering him upstairs and into his room. “It’s fine.” John obeys Tavros’ mother-like shooing, walking up the stairs and into Tavros’ room, collapsing onto the bed and staring at all the band posters around him.

“Good taste,” he nods, eyeing a Fall Out Boy poster, and Tavros grins.

“Thanks,” he says. “My friends Aradia and Karkat introduced me to most of them.”

“Good friends you’ve got there,” John remarks, and Tavros sighs, grinning happily.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have got good friends.”

“Like Sollux?” John says with a smirk, and Tavros tries to scowl as he blushes deeply, but can’t manage it.

“Fuck you,” he says, sounding like a petulant child. John sits back on the bed, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“So,” he says. “What exactly’s going on with you two?” Tavros’ blush deepens – something which, had John not just seen it occur, he would have held for impossible – and he hides a small smile.

“Nothing,” he says, but the tone of his voice makes it evident something is.

“Come on,” John wheedles. “Tell me.” Tavros sighs, falling onto the bed and gazing up at the ceiling.

“Well, it’s basically how we were before…yeah,” he says. “Except maybe a little more intense. I think- I think I might be in love with him.” The words hang in the air for a moment, heavy and meaningful, and Tavros bites his lip. “I’m scared,” he adds in a whisper, and John turns to him, playing soothingly with his hair.

“It’s natural to be scared,” he says. “We’re all scared of what we don’t know.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Tavros says. “What if he doesn’t actually want me that much?”

“I think he does,” John says. “He stuck by you through everything you did, everything we did. That takes dedication and…well, and love.”

“I’m not so sure,” Tavros says. “I was a right shit to him. I basically cheated on him with you.”

“Love doesn’t end just because you want it to, Tavros,” John says gently.

“All I can do is hope,” Tavros says, blinking, and John notices his eyes are shining with tears.

“Hey,” he says softly, stroking Tavros’s cheek. “It’s alright.”

“Except it’s not really, is it?” Tavros chokes out. “I ruined everything, just because I was selfish and stupid.”

“You should talk it out with him,” John suggests. “Tell him how you feel. He probably thinks you don’t like him anymore, because of…yeah.” He doesn’t want to relive those memories; fresh wounds still hurt, and it’d just be throwing salt in them.

“What if he starts hating me?” Tavros whispers.

“If there’s one thing that will never happen, it’s Sollux hating you,” John says. “That boy loves you with all his heart, Tavros. He’d give anything to see you happy. He probably let me and you happen because he thought you were happier with me.”

“God, don’t say that,” Tavros says, closing his eyes in pain. “I’ve been such a dick.”

“Mistakes can be corrected,” John says.

“Okay,” Tavros resolves decidedly. “I’m going to tell him. Tomorrow.” John smiles.

“Good on you,” he says, and he really means it. He’s happy for them.  
-  
Someone’s throwing stones at the window, and it’s woken John up. He stumbles blearily over, hauling it up so he can bend down and lean out and yell at whoever’s causing such a racket. He doesn’t, however, because he realises who it is just in time.

“Dave?” he says incredulously. How the fuck does Dave know where Tavros lives? Moreover, how the fuck does Dave know that he’ll be here?

“Shh!” Dave hisses, looking around him warily. “Come down.”

“It’s like-“

“Three thirty-four a.m., dickhead,” Dave says, and John can’t see him rolling his eyes but he can imagine it. “Get down here.” John flips him off, shutting the window, but steals past Tavros’ sleeping figure and heads downstairs.

“Couldn’t this have waited?” he says, shivering in the cold as he approaches Dave.

“Probably, but then again, probably not,” Dave says. “I need to tell you something.”

“It could probably have waited, then,” John mutters, but he follows Dave out of the driveway and onto the pavement.

“I guess you spoke to Tavros about Sollux?” John nods. Why is that important?

“Tavros’s pretty much in love with Sol, right?” John frowns at the use of Sollux’s nickname, but nods again.

“Why?” he says. “Are you going to tell him?”

“No, but I bet Tavros’ about to,” Dave says. John doesn’t answer, and he sighs. “Correct.”

“Yeah,” John says. “Does it affect you?”

“No, but what I’m about to tell you might…affect things,” Dave says, and he sounds kind of worried. John’s stomach plummets, and he swallows thickly.

“Go on,” he says. Dave takes a deep breath, not looking at John.

“Sollux’s my ex-boyfriend,” he says in a rush.

“Sorry, what?” John says. He can’t have heard that right.

“Sollux’s my ex,” Dave repeats. His face looks paler than usual in the orange glow of the streetlights. “I…we dated, for a while.”

“You told me you were straight, until me,” John says. “You told me you were sure of your life.”

“I lied,” Dave says quietly. “I was…well, in denial, I guess.” He sounds pained, as if saying those words, admitting to what he is, is a huge effort.

“You lied to me,” John repeats. “Sollux lied to Tavros.”

“No, it wasn’t like tha-“

“You both lied to us,” John ploughs on, voice rising as he continues. “I thought Sollux loved Tavros.”

“He does!” Dave says.

“So that’s why you still talk to Sollux,” John says. “Because you-“

“We’re not together anymo-“

“But you still lo-“

“I don’t love Sollux, Jesus Chri-“

“You lied to me!” John yells. Dave lapses abruptly into silence.

“Are you going to tell Tavros?” he asks quietly. John considers it.

“No,” he says. “I think that’s for Sollux to tell him.”

“Okay,” Dave says, subdued. “I’ll- I’ll go now.” And he turns his back on John, walking dejectedly away from him, soon swallowed by the darkness. John watches him go, watches him until he can’t see him anymore.

Then he turns his back on Dave, and heads back inside.


	15. red pen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters left. i can't believe its been so long since i started this.  
> thanks to everyone, if you're still reading this.

John leaves early on Sunday morning, waving goodbye to a slightly bemused Tavros as he heads off down the street. He’s not in the mood for hanging around and pretending to be fine with Tavros, not when he knows what Tavros doesn’t, not when he’s just done whatever to Dave, not now.

He mulls it over as he ambles down the road, kicking pebbles as he goes. What has he done to Dave? What happens now? They haven’t…broken up, right, because they were never together. Technically, John can do whatever he wants, because he’s not like, tied down or anything.

Except, that little voice in the back of his head says, you were as good as tied down. John scowls, shoving the thought away as far as he possibly can, focusing on kicking this particular pebble as far as he can down the road. He wasn’t tied down, alright, him and Dave weren’t officially anything at all, so he’s not done anything at all.

So why does he feel so guilty, so frustrated, so wound up and so shit about it?

The next thought that shoves its way to the forefront of his mind makes him feel so suddenly sick that he almost has to sit down, pushing it back as far as he possibly can to the dark corners of his consciousness.

No.

Dave lied to him. Dave made John feel guilty for no particular reason through his lies, and John’s not up for dealing with that. Sure, Dave has problems – but fuck, John does too! It’s not all about fucking Dave and his shitty-ass life. It’s about John and his shitty life too.

He ends up at the bridge without even realising, unsure how he got there, a handful of pebbles in his hand, chucking them one by one at the waterfall and watching them fall gracefully into the churning, foamy water underneath. He’s so caught in his thoughts that he doesn’t realise there’s someone next to him until they speak.

“I guess Dave told you,” the person says, and John nearly keels over, almost falling off the bridge before regaining his balance, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Shit.

“Jesus, Sol, wanna give me cardiac arrest?” he says shakily, clutching his chest. Sollux grins, staring out at the waterfall. 

“If it makes you forgive Dave, sure,” he says. “He’s pretty fucking torn up about it, y’know. Been crying to me all night.” Dave? Crying? As if.

“Sure,” John snorts, and he’s not sure why he’s being so cold-hearted about it when the fact that Dave’s been crying makes his heart tug a little, the ice covering it melt a little.

“I’m serious,” Sollux says, turning to look at John earnestly. “He’s in pieces, man. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” John says. “He lied to me.”

“Would you rather you’d found out for yourself?” Sollux says. “Imagine how that would have felt. Not only had he lied to you, but he’d kept it from you.”

“He did keep it from me,” John growls, hurling another pebble as far across the water as he can. This one actually touches the waterfall, propelled down by the hefty force of the water.

“Come on, John,” Sollux sighs. “You’re being irrational.” John grits his teeth, flinging another pebble out across the water. He might be being irrational, but since when has Dave been rational? John’s just taking a leaf out of Dave’s book; that’s all.

“What happened with you two, then?” John asks, after a few moments. Sollux sighs again, raking a hand through his spiky hair. John wonders idly if it’s soft to the touch.

“It was a couple of years ago, now,” he says. “I used to come to the bridge a lot with my dad; we’d fish here. Yeah, I know,” he says with a wry smile as John snorts a little. “Not exactly a prime fishing spot, right? We never caught anything, just broke a load of rods. Still, it was father/son time and we never got any of that.” He shrugs, and John sobers up – he understands how that feels. Sometimes he wishes he had a proper father, someone he could look up to and idolise and aspire and strive to be like, but he doesn’t. And sometimes, that sucks.

“My Dad and I stopped fishing when I was about ten, when his work started demanding more from him. I still went to the bridge every Saturday, though, and just sat there staring at the waterfall. It’s oddly calming, don’t you think? One day, however, there was a stranger standing on the bridge, arms spread as if he was about to jump. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was thinking. I asked him what he was thinking about, and he said death. We didn’t exchange any more words. I just sat next to him on the bridge for a couple of hours. And then I went home.”

“Why didn’t you try and discourage him from jumping?” John asks. That would be the logical thing to do, right?

“Oh, I knew he wasn’t going to jump,” Sollux says.

“How?”

“Gut instinct. Some people have the courage, others don’t. He didn’t.”

“So what happened then?” John asks. He’s oddly intrigued by this story; maybe because it’s Dave’s past, maybe because it’s Sollux’s, but either way it’s interesting enough for him to want to hear more.

“I still went every Saturday. Except now there was this boy every Saturday, standing in the same position on the bridge. And I’d sit next to him, say nothing, and then leave after a couple of hours. I never saw him around at school – I kept myself to myself before Sollux and Rufioh showed up, bringing me and Equius together as well – so I knew nothing about him. He was just that stranger at the bridge. But one Saturday I went to the bridge, and he wasn’t standing on it. He was sitting down, staring at the waterfall across from the bridge. I sat down next to him, expecting another silent day, but he spoke to me. He asked me what my name was. I was surprised, but I told him. He told me his name was Dave, and that he liked my hair. He asked if he could touch it.” Sollux’s lips hitch into a small smile. “I said yeah, and he grinned at me, reaching up to stroke it. I closed my eyes - ‘cause it’s nice when someone touches your hair, y’know? – and he told me to open them again. I asked why, confused, and he told me I had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.”

“They are pretty,” John agrees thoughtfully - similar to Tavros' – and Sollux blushes slightly. John wonders what Dave's eyes look like. 

“We started meeting every Saturday at the bridge. Every week we’d just talk for a few hours, have a bit of a laugh, and then go home. But one Saturday, just after Tavros and Rufioh moved in, he was standing on the bridge again. This time I was scared. This time he had the courage to jump. So I ran over, begged him not to jump. I told him I needed him, please don’t jump. It took a couple of hours – until it was dark, even – but eventually he got down. And he started crying. I held him as he cried, not asking him what was wrong, not asking what had happened, just…just hugging him. And when it was dark, when I could barely see his face in the weak moonlight, he kissed me. I don’t know what happened, what came over either of us, but we were just…kissing. A lot.” John feels a sharp pang of jealousy stab him right in the chest – why? This is the past, he reminds himself, but it’s more forceful than it would usually be.

“So what went wrong?” he asks. Sollux sighs.

“We went on like that for a few months, meeting every Saturday, kissing and talking a lot, maybe even the odd handjob – what, okay, we were horny teenagers. I’d befriended Sollux, Rufioh and Equius by this point, and we were getting closer and closer, and I was starting to realise that maybe I actually liked Tavros a little bit more than Dave. I felt terrible for feeling like that, though, so I pushed the feelings aside and tried to focus on Dave. But one week he told me he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t do us. I asked why not, confused, wondering what I’d done, but he just shook his head, offering me no explanation. He made to walk away, but I put my hand on his arm and spun him back around, wanting some kind of explanation. I mean, you don’t just dump someone and don’t say why, right? That’s a bit out of order. And he still wouldn’t tell me, but I was insistent, and eventually he yelled that he wasn’t gay.” John snorts.

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath, but Sollux catches it and grins.

“Exactly what I thought. You don’t kiss a boy for months, give him handjobs, without being at least a little bit gay. So I called bullshit, and coaxed him into sitting down and talking to me. He told me that he wasn’t gay, a little more forcefully than he’d maybe have done otherwise, and I just nodded. No point pushing him to breaking point, right? And we sat there for a while, and then he said he couldn’t be associated with me anymore. I couldn’t speak to him again. I’d kind of expected something like that – see, by that time I’d heard rumours about him starting to step things up a notch and become a relatively vicious bully, but still never seen him in action myself – so I nodded. And then he asked if he could touch my hair. I nodded, surprised, and he smiled sadly at me, reaching up to touch it. I closed my eyes, trying not to cry, and he whispered at me to open them again. I asked why, but obeyed, and he wiped away the tear that fell, telling me I had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.”

John’s not really sure why he’s choked up now. Fuck, this isn’t anything to do with him, so why does he care? Why does he suddenly want to travel back in time and give both Dave and Sollux fierce hugs?

“We didn’t speak for ages after that. I was in Year Nine when we broke up, and it wasn’t until this summer that we started talking again. We met at the bridge – I hadn’t been going since we broke up, but I decided to that Saturday – and he spoke to me again. He asked me how I’d been, what had been going on, et cetera. I asked him why he thought it would be fun to get his friends to lock me and my friends in a dark room for hours, beat us up, steal our shit, et cetera. He looked kind of ashamed of himself, but didn’t offer me an explanation. I felt a bit sick; that’s not the Dave I knew, the Dave I loved, so I turned to leave, but he caught my arm, begging me to stay. Reluctantly, I did, swinging my legs over and sitting on the bridge with him, just like the old days. And suddenly he was babbling at me, apologies stumbling over one another as they tumbled from his lips. I listened to them, but I said nothing. I wasn’t sure whether a year’s worth of heartbreak and bullying could be forgiven in words.”

“Can it?” John asks. “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah,” Sollux says, sighing. “Yeah, I did. We made up. I told him about Tavros, and he grinned at me, telling me that he’s not an idiot, of course he could see that, and it was just like it had been before, just without the kissing and stuff. We spoke for hours, filling each other in on what had happened in the past year, but before I left he asked me if I’d keep this secret, our little friendship. I considered it – I wondered whether I really should, since he’d mistreated me so much over the past year – but I agreed. And since then we’ve been going to each other’s houses – sneakily, of course, made even harder by the fact that I befriended Rose – and meeting here, meeting at school, catching up on each other’s lives and helping with advice.”

“So you’re…like, active friends?” John asks, feeling stupid. Sollux laughs.

“Active friends, what the fuck,” he says, and John scowls. “But yeah, we are. And I know him better than anyone else does. I know how he feels about you, John, no matter what he says to you or to himself.” John says nothing. He’s still simmering about Dave lying to him, but now, in the grand scheme of things, it feels small, irrelevant.

“You should forgive him,” Sollux says. “He’s…he’s really upset about this, John. I’ve never seen him this upset before. Fuck, I’ve never seen him this confused or emotional before; he usually doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. Just…at least talk to him, okay?” John considers it for a moment, but nods his agreement. Fine. He can talk to Dave.

“Good,” Sollux says, hopping down off the bridge, his hair ruffled by the wind. “Oh, by the way- he told me to give you this, if I saw you.” He fiddles around in his pocket, fishing out a scrap of paper after a moment and handing it to John, before turning his back and leaving. John frowns at his retreating figure, watching him until he’s swallowed by the trees, before turning back to the waterfall, unfolding the piece of paper.

There, in hastily scribbled red pen, are twelve words.

And it’s good enough to make me want to fall in love.


	16. the stars are brighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡

John intends to find Dave at school, maybe corner Rose during break or lunch and ask if she knows where her brother will be. That plan falls through, though, since Rose’s not in and John doesn’t want to go off searching for Dave of his own accord. He’ll probably get beaten up by Cronus and Eridan again.

“I fucking hate French,” Tavros snaps as he walks over to the rest of the Sexicans, having been the only one to go to third lesson. “Look how much fucking homework we get.”

“Should have taken Spanish,” Equius grins, and Tavros glowers at him.

“I mean, who actually cares about- about, subjunctives, and infinitives, and whatever-“ 

“You kind of need infinitives to work anything out in a language,” Sollux points out, and Tavros turns his glare on Sollux instead. “Woah, just saying.”

“I’m so fucking done,” Tavros declares, throwing his folder on the grass and sitting down with far more force than is required for a short person to reach the ground. “I don’t want to do any more lessons ever again in my entire life. Ever.”

“Who does?” John asks, watching Sollux subtly pick a sausage roll out of his lunch and aim it at Rufioh, hitting him square in the face. Sollux grins in satisfaction, shooting John a quick wink, and John can’t help but shake his head fondly. Whatever makes the kid smile.

“Aren’t you coming to Music later, then?” Equius asks, shifting away from Rufioh as Rose starts properly pelting him with food.

“Do I have to?” Tavros moans, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in frustration. His skin catches the sun, making him glow in an almost golden way, and John sees Sollux’s gaze linger a little too long before returning to the other Nitram brother.

“Well, I am,” Equius shrugs, turning to Rufioh. “Rufioh?”

“Yeah, I- Sollux Captor, I swear to God-“

“Sol?” Sollux nods, throwing grape after grape at Rufioh, whose dodging skills are honed to this by now. “John?”

“Yeah,” John says, shooting Tavros an apologetic look. Maybe he’ll catch Dave in Music.

“Fuck you all,” Tavros mutters, but the words are frustrated rather than heated.

“Not me,” Rufioh says. “That’s gross.”

“Fuck all of you except Rufioh, then.”

“You’ll probably catch something if you do,” Sollux says.

“Are you saying you have an STD?” Tavros demands.

“No,” Sollux shrugs, “but Equius might.” Equius scowls.

“I am a virgin,” he protests, but no one’s listening because Sollux’s just managed to get a grape down Rufioh’s shirt and Rufioh’s yelling at Sollux and squealing like a girl, and when John glances over at Tavros even he’s smiling a little bit.  
-  
“Hey,” John says, walking into his practice room in surprise, finding Mr Megido there.

“Oh, John!” Mr Megido says. “I was just wondering how your piece with Dave is getting along.” John frowns.

“I’m not doing a piece with Dave,” he says. “Dave’s AS-Level, I’m GCSE.”

“Yeah, about that,” Mr Megido says. “I thought it would be good if you two did a piece together. Your friends tell me you’re two very compatible people.” He’s got a little twinkle in his eye as he says it, and John scowls.

“I’ll bet they did,” he mutters under his breath, beginning to mentally list the numerous ways he could kill the Sexicans.

“So, what do you say?” Mr Megido says. “We’ve got a couple of weeks left, so you still have time to adapt your piece and add Dave’s part in.” John hasn’t even got a piece to adapt; so it should be even easier. That doesn’t mean he wants to do it, though. He’s still kind of mad at Dave for pretending to be straight when he very clearly isn’t.

“Sure,” John sighs after a moment, clearly seeing that there’s no other way out of the situation.

“Great,” Mr Megido says. “He’ll probably be here soon, so you might want to set things up.” He walks out of the room, and John barely has time to hold his head in his hands and curse himself for agreeing to this before someone else is walking in, stopping abruptly in the doorway.

“Close the door,” John says tiredly, guessing it’s Dave. The door clicks shut and John looks up to see it is indeed Dave, sporting a deer-in-the-headlights look as he hovers awkwardly by his usual seat.

“I spoke to Sollux,” John says, and Dave bites his lip, looking anywhere but at John as a blush spreads across his cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, though, so John continues. “He told me all about your…you two.”

“I’m sorry,” Dave whispers, and John sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, Dave,” he says. “If you’re gay, just tell me, okay? Fuck, what am I gonna do? I clearly want you just as much.” Dave swallows audibly, clenching his hand into a fist against his thigh. “Being in denial’s not going to get us anywhere but in trouble. It’s like you were leading me on, lying to me and making me feel like I was some kind of special person, like I meant something to you, when you’d actually already fucked Sol. Can you imagine how that felt?” Dave nods meekly.

“I get why you did it though,” John carries on, and Dave looks at him in surprise. “Yeah, I do. Denial’s not an easy stage to get through, but it doesn’t take an idiot to work your situation out.”

“I thought Sol was a phase,” Dave says. “I’d managed to convince myself it was, when you turned up. And then it wasn’t a phase anymore; it was me.”

“There you go,” John says softly. “You’ve just said it’s you. That’s all the acceptance you need.” And suddenly all the blood drains from Dave’s face, and he sits down heavily in the chair.

“Shit,” he whispers, faint and scared and horrified. “I’m…I’m gay.” John thinks he might throw up, so he walks over, kneeling next to Dave and putting a comforting hand on his back.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s okay.” Dave doesn’t reply, just stares at the carpet.

“I’m going to leave you now,” John says, sensing Dave’s too caught up in the thoughts in his mind to make any effort to communicate with anyone else. “Come talk to me when you’re ready.” Dave doesn’t respond, doesn’t even nod, doesn’t watch John as he straightens up and picks up his bag, walking out of the door and slipping into the Sexican practice room down the corridor.

“Alright?” Equius says, surprised, from where he’s standing and probably sweet-talking a disgruntled-looking Tavros. “What do we owe the pleasure?” John shoots a glance at Sollux, a we need to talk glance, and Sollux understands, taking his bass off his shoulders.

“Hang on, guys,” Sollux says, following John back out of the door. No one pays any attention to them as they head up the corridor, into the weird, disused practice room where Tavros and John had kissed for the very last time.

“Did you talk to him?” Sollux asks as soon as the door swings shut, and John nods.

“Yeah,” he sighs, carding a hand through his hair (before realising he’s probably messed it up, and smoothing it back down hastily). “He’s…well.” He shrugs. “Not good.”

“Not good?” Sollux asks, frowning in concern, and John sighs again. How the fuck does he explain this?

“I told him I spoke to you, and he kind of accidentally admitted he was gay. And then I pointed it out. And…yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Shit,” Sollux says in an exhale, raking a hand through his own unruly hair. “Is he still in there?” John nods.

“I thought he’d need some time alone, time to sort through his own thoughts,” he says, but now that he thinks about it – Dave, suicidal, lonely, frightened Dave – was it such a good idea? 

“He does,” Sollux says. “He’ll just lash out at you otherwise, or manage to convince himself he’s straight. I’ll go see him before the end of the lesson, make sure he’s okay though, alright? He’ll probably come and talk to you later on. He likes seeing you at night.” John frowns, but nods, and Sollux looks like he’s about to say something more before thinking better of it and turning to open the door to the practice room and let them out. He stops abruptly, however, spinning back to face John.

“You mean a lot to him, y’know,” he says. “More than I ever did. I think…I think he’s starting to fall in love with you.”  
-  
John actually does some homework that night, for the first time since…well, for the first time. It’s mainly to take his mind off things, though, because he doesn’t want to think about what Dave might be doing, what Dave might be thinking, what Dave might be going through. He gives up after a couple of hours, however, because he’s never going to be able to write a three-thousand word essay for History in this mindset, and yells out a quick goodbye to Kanaya and Rose (not even questioning why she was over, she seemed to be over a lot these days), shrugging on a hoodie and heading out into the darkness of the night.

He knows where he’s headed, and somehow he knows that Dave’s going to be there. His gut instinct proves correct when he reaches the bridge, seeing Dave standing on it, arms spread, clothes ruffled by the wind. John walks over, not saying anything, just sitting down next to Dave.

“Why don’t you get down?” John suggests after a few minutes.

“Not as much fun,” Dave says. John raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. If fun’s what Dave’s after, so be it. Standing on a bridge is clearly highly invigorating.

“Sollux came and spoke to me,” Dave says after a few more moments of relative silence. “Made sure I was okay.” John feels suddenly guilty, as though Dave’s accusing him of not caring.

“And are you?” he asks, craning his neck to see Dave’s face. It remains blank as Dave shrugs, closing his eyes as the breeze ruffles his hair.

“It’s scary,” he says. “I wasn’t really prepared for how…how overwhelming it is. I’m different. I don’t like it. But I’m starting to accept it.”

“You’re not different,” John insists. “Are you saying I am, too? Sollux? Tavros” Dave shrugs again, noncommittally, as if he doesn’t care, but doesn’t reply. Charming.

“Come on,” John coaxes softly, after an uncomfortable amount of time passes. “Get down.”

“Give me a reason,” Dave says.

“I’m asking you to,” John says.

“Not good enough,” Dave replies, shaking his head with a slightly wry smile playing on his lips.

“The whole point of life,” John says, “is that you have to find your own reasons to live. People can tell you all the bullshit they want, but in the end it’s you who decides what’s important enough to live for, what you want in your life. I could list a thousand reasons for you to get off that bridge right now, but none of them will be your reasons. They’ll be my reasons for you to live, not yours. That’s not going to help you, because what I consider worthy of living for you might consider totally shit. But there’s always one reason to live, one reason that you hesitate before jumping. And you’ve just got to hold onto that one reason, cling to it like it’s going to go away as soon as you stop holding it.” Dave’s silent for a few moments, and neither of them move, and John thinks oh shit, he’s going to jump but then Dave gets down, sitting down beside John and gazing out at the waterfall.

“I’m sorry,” Dave whispers, but John just finds his hand in the darkness, twining their fingers together.

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s okay.” It’s starting to get colder now, the wind nipping at their bodies, and when Dave shivers next to him John decides it’s time to go.

“Come on,” he says gently, letting go of Dave’s hand and hopping off the bridge. “We’d better get home.” Dave nods, getting off the bridge himself, and John tangles their fingers together again. Dave smiles shyly at him, and they set off through the woods, down the dirt track and back onto the street, back into civilisation. Their road isn’t too far away, though, so they reach Dave’s house soon enough.

“I don’t want to go,” Dave says petulantly, turning to face John halfway up his driveway, and Joohn has to laugh a little at the childish tone of his voice.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” he promises. Dave pouts sulkily, and John laughs softly, leaning forwards and pressing their lips together, kissing Dave’s displeasure away. Dave soon melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around John’s waist as John hooks his own around Dave’s neck. It’s a good few minutes before they break away, gasping for air but both grinning inanely.

“Hey,” John says, looking upwards. “Look up.” Dave obeys.

“What?” he asks, and John grins.

“The stars are brighter than the streetlights,” he murmurs. And it’s true, they are, glimmering brighter than ever in the distance.


	17. there's a reason to wake up in the morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER.  
> wow, this has been a fuckin' ride.   
> thanks to everyone for reading. ily alllll<33

“John,” Jade says at breakfast the next morning. John looks up at his cousin, at her earnest face.

“Yeah?” he says, surprised.

“Are you happy now?” John frowns, opening his mouth to say when was I not happy, I’ve always been happy before snapping it shut again. Because he hasn’t always been happy, but since when has Jade picked up on that?

“What do you mean?” John asks carefully. Jade is clearly sharper than she looks.

“You’ve never been happy,” Jade says sadly, but almost casually. “You never used to smile. I never used to see you laugh. You’d lock yourself away from everyone, only come down for food, never speak to us.” John frowns again, trying to remember. Is that true? It sounds relatively plausible; that’s how he used to feel, anyway. Maybe he wasn’t as good at disguising it as he thought.

“And?” he says. It’s making him slightly uncomfortable that his cousin seems to know him better than he does.

“And now you smile. You laugh. You talk to us at dinner, watch movies with me, go out…you’re happier, John.”

“Yeah,” John says slowly, as his mind flits from image to image – his old school, his old bullies, his parents, to Tavros, Sollux, Rufioh, Equius, Rose, Dave. “Yeah, I guess I am.” And it’s a weird feeling, realising that he’s actually happy, actually content with life, that there’s something to live for now.

“I guess you found a reason to get up in the mornings,” Jade says nonchalantly, but her eyes are shrewd. She’s watching John’s every move, calculating, observing, working out what John’s thinking. She’d be a brilliant master criminal.

“Yeah,” John says. “I guess I did.”  
-  
He’s still thinking about that conversation on his way to school, causing him to forget that he has to jump over a fence and leading him to try and run straight into it. He’s got a huge bruise on his forehead that everyone’s going to make fun of, but he can’t even find it in him to be disgruntled about that. Because he’s fucking happy.

“Hey,” Sollux says when he walks over to them. “You look like a cat that got the tongue.”

“No,” Equius says patiently. “You mean cat that got the cream.” Sollux frowns.

“Do I?” he says. “Probably.” Tavros grins and whips his phone out, typing something out.

“Aw, fuck,” Sollux says, realising what Tavros; doing. “Don’t add that one.”

“What?” John asks, confused.

“Sollux messes up a lot of common phrases,” Tavros explains. “So we started a list called ‘Sollux can’t talk good’.” Sollux groans and buries his head in his hands.

“Come on, tell him some,” Rufioh says with a grin in Sollux’s direction.

“Let’s kill birds with stones,” Tavros says.

“My favourite,” Equius giggles.

“I’ll be there in two licks of a lamb’s tail?” Tavros says, turning to look at Sollux, and Sollux shakes his head, making a vague noise of discontent. Rufioh pulls a face.

“Gross,” he says. “Never looking at your internet history.” Sollux glowers at him.

“What’s up with that all about?” Tavros says with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s understandable, cut me some slack,” Sollux says.

“To some pregnant, girl, he said; ‘Who’s got the baby in the oven?’” Tavros continues, completely ignoring Sollux’s comment.

“Never let him become a father,” Equius says seriously to Tavros. “I will adopt any child he has, seriously.”

“Like you’d be any better,” Rufioh says. Equius pouts.

“I’d be a great father,” he says sulkily, and Rose laughs.

“I don’t think any of us would be good parents,” she points out. “We get ridiculously drunk every weekend.” Everyone has to grudgingly concede there, because it’s a fair point.

“I bet Dave would be a good father,” Tavros says with a smirk, shooting a look at John. John tries to hide his blush but to no avail; it’s harder when he has five pairs of eyes staring at him, twinkling with humour.

“Fuck you all,” John mumbles, bringing his legs up to his chest and burying his burning face in his knees.

“Aw, John’s got a crush!” Rufioh sing-songs.

“Dude, they’re practically an item,” John hears Equius say. “Are you dumb, or what? ‘Crush’ hardly covers it.”

“It’s better than singing ‘John’s got an almost-boyfriend-who-is-probably-a-psychopath-but-John-loves-him-anyway!”

“Yeah, that doesn’t quite have the same ring,” Tavros says thoughtfully. “Dave’s alright, though.” Sollux doesn’t say anything, and John peeks over his knees to see him staring awkwardly at the ground, quietly. He still hasn’t told Tavros.

“Sol, can we talk?” he says, and Sollux looks at him, a is this about Dave look. John nods imperceptibly, and Sollux sighs, nodding as he gets to his feet and following John, who’s already halfway to the building, heading towards the alleyway Sollux had taken him to last time.

“So?” Sollux asks, when they reach the alleyway and John spins around. “What about Dave?”

“Why haven’t you told Tavros yet?” John asks. It’s not really his place to ask - especially after how he reacted to Dave telling him about Sollux- but he still feels Tavros deserves to know. At any rate, Tavros deserves to know before they progress any further with their relationship; it’s hardly fair otherwise.

“Because I don’t really need to,” Sollux says, but he’s not looking John in the eye. Of course, Sollux doesn’t really need to – Dave was before Tavros, they started dating before Tavros even moved into Derse – but that doesn’t mean Tavros won’t need to know. It’s a big part of Sollux's past.

“He won’t be mad,” John says with a sigh. “It’s Tavros. He can’t be mad at you for anything. He loves you too much.” Sollux snorts a little, but says nothing, still not looking at John. “Look,” John says. “I only reacted the way I did because Dave had lied. You haven’t lied to Tavros about anything; this was before Tavros.”

“What was before Tavros?” a voice behind Sollux says, and both Sollux and John jump and curse.

“Shit, Tavros,” John breathes, trying to calm his racing heart down.

“Mierda, Tavros,” Sollux practically shrieks, stumbling backwards as he clutches his hand to his chest.

“What’s going on?” Tavros demands, choosing to ignore their reactions. “What was before my time, Sol? What’s Dave lied about?” Sollux throws John a pleading glance – this is your fucking fault, man, sort it out – but John shakes his head. Sollux has to tell Tavros sooner or later, anyway – better he find out now than find out later, meaning Sollux would have to lie right now too. 

“Er,” Sollux says, and Tavros stands there waiting expectantly.

“What, Sollux?” he says patiently, in a half-cold way that makes Sollux shrink away a little. “Spit it out.”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Sollux sighs, resigning himself to telling Tavros. “And you’re going to hate me for it.”

“I won’t,” Tavros promises, but the icy tone is still there. 

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” John says, feeling like he’s intruding, but as he makes to walk away Sollux catches his wrist.

“No,” he says. “You’re as much a part of this as I am.” John opens his mouth to protest – well, he’s not really, is he? – but a look from Sollux makes him think twice, and he shuts it again.

“You know how I always used to go to the bridge?” Sollux starts, and Tavros nods slowly, suspiciously.

“What’s this got to do with Dave?” he says.

“Wait,” John tells him, and Tavros shuts up.

“I was…well. I was…dating Dave. For a year, give or take. I saved his life. He saved mine. We were…happy, I guess. But then things turned sour. He started going back into his shell, back into denial, saying he wasn’t gay – which we now know for sure he is; thanks John – and I started falling for you. We kept up the pretence for a while, but then it just got too much. We broke up. We didn’t talk for about a year and a half, not until this summer, when I found him by the bridge again. He apologised, in a roundabout way, and we made up. We’ve been secret friends ever since – he doesn’t want Cronus and Eridan to know we’re friends - or the rest of the school, since it would ruin his reputation – and I didn’t want you guys to know, because you’d have questioned me on everything and I thought it would ruin things. But there is literally nothing going on between us anymore – that was all finished two years ago – and he’s been helping me for the past few months, just like I’ve been helping him,” he finishes, biting his lip anxiously whilst scrutinising Tavros’s reaction.

“You dated Dave,” Tavros says slowly. “Dave Strider. David Elizabeth Strider. The Dave Strider who bullied us - bullied you – for years. The Dave Strider who is in love with John.”

“Yeah,” Sollux says in a small voice. “I-I’m sorry, I mean, I don’t-“

“No,” Tavros says. “You’re not.”

And he walks off without another word, leaving a lost Sollux staring after him and a surprised John in his wake.  
-  
“Hey,” Dave says, surprised, when John knocks on his door later that evening. Sollux hadn’t spoken to anyone for the rest of the day – he was pretty cut up about the whole Tavros thing. Seriously cut up.

“Hey,” John says tiredly. “Do you have a minute?” Dave casts a furtive glance back into his house and nods, stepping outside into the cool air.

“What’s up?” he says. “You okay?” John sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

“Sollux told Tavros today,” he says. “About you and him.” Dave draws in a sharp breath.

“I take it it didn’t go down well?” he says, and John shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says. “He hasn’t…I don’t know. He acted the same for the rest of the day, but Sollux didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t look at anyone, just sat there in silence.” Dave sighs, putting a comforting hand on John’s forearm.

“Look,” he says. “I’ll talk to Sol. I’m sure he’ll be fine. You talk to Tavros.”

“Yeah, about that,” John says. “I don’t really think Tavros wants to talk to me either. I was there when Sollux told him, and it was kind of my fault it came out…” he trails off. Fuck. He should have let Sollux handle it himself.

“Hey, don’t blame yourself,” Dave says gently, pulling John into a hug. John drops his head on Dave’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries not to cry. Something about the protective way Dave’s arms are wrapped around him, the warmth of his chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart makes John want to sob into Dave’s shoulder, have Dave hold him forever, break and shatter and fall apart in Dave’s arms. “We should have been frank with you. I reckon Tavros' most mad about Sollux sneaking around being friends with me; after all, what guarantee does he have that I’m not trying to fuck him?”

“Am I not enough of a guarantee?” John jokes, and Dave huffs out a laugh.

“To me, yes. To him? No.” John sighs, hooking his arms around Dave’s neck and pulling himself as close to Dave as he can, craving the familiarity and warmth and comfort and fucking emotion that he’s feeling right now.

“He should trust Sollux,” John remarks. “What kind of a relationship is one that has no trust? A relationship needs trust, and two-way trust at that. Otherwise there’s no basis for a relationship at all.”

“Do you trust me?” Dave asks. John thinks about it for a moment – he shouldn’t trust Dave, has absolutely no fucking reason to trust Dave, but for some reason he does. For some reason, he finds himself able to put his life into Dave’s hands and know Dave would do the right thing, the good thing, the best thing for John.

“Yeah,” John says in wonder. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then we’re all good,” Dave murmurs. “Because I trust you too.”

Jade’s earlier words echo in his mind.

Are you happy now?

Yeah. Yeah, he is.


	18. the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, it's the end.  
> i've had a lot of fun making this and ive had so much great comments and stuff that  
> i never thought i would get.  
> so thanks to all of you, even if you just gave it kudos, or didn't at all,  
> just thank you. <333  
> -alischa

John’s dreading the next day at school already. Things are going to be ridiculously awkward between Tavros and Sollux, and Equius and Rufioh won’t know why, and John won’t know what to do because it’s kind of his fault the tension is there, and he feels shit about it as it is.

Great.

He drags himself out of bed as late as possible and doesn’t bother running to school, instead walking the long way that gets him there half an hour later than he would usually get there. Tavros, Equius, Rose and Rufioh are all sitting on the grass, but unsurprisingly, Sollux is absent.

“Hey,” Rufioh yells. “John, where’ve you been?” John shrugs, dropping his bag to the floor and sitting between Rose and Rufioh.

“Around,” he says evasively. Rufioh frowns.

“You seen Sol?” he asks, and John shakes his head. “Ah, fuck. He’s not answering his phone. No one knows where he is.” John’s gaze flicks over to Tavros, whose face is carefully blank, and he sighs.

“I’ll try and find him later,” he promises, and Rufioh grins, patting his knee.

“Good boy,” he says, and John scowls, hugging his knees to his chest so Rufioh can never assault them again.

“Anyone going to lessons today?” he asks, and everyone shakes their heads, murmuring something. John doesn’t have Music today, more’s the pity, so he’s not planning on going to any either. He hasn’t found a single one worth attending but Music yet (not that he’s attended many, to be fair – Chemistry and Music have been his two most frequent). “Okay, cool. Maybe Sol’ll show up.”

“Maybe,” Equius echoes.

“Hopefully,” Rufioh says. Tavros mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like I like it like this, but John chooses to ignore that. After all, it could have just been the wind.  
-  
Sollux turns up not too much later, subdued and quiet and not really interacting much with anyone, not even John, and especially not Tavros. Rufioh, Rose and Equius seem to sense that it’s not a good time to talk, so they talk amongst themselves, trying to include a quietly fuming Tavros and an awkward John into their conversations. Neither Tavros nor John make much effort, though, and after a while Rufioh, Equius and Rose give up on them, leaving them in the most awkward silence John's ever been in.

“I’m going to the toilet,” he says after a moment, and no one even bothers to acknowledge him as he gets up and walks into the building, actually needing the toilet but intending to maybe find Dave and lament to him afterwards. The building is silent and seemingly empty when he walks in (although he knows that’s just because everyone’s in the lessons he should be in right now) and he wonders whether he’s ever really seen the school in its prime. He’s walked the bustling corridors only really when they’re empty, not been in many classrooms or interacted with many students or teachers or done much that makes this seem like school to him. It’s just another set of old as fuck buildings, just like his old school, with bullies and teachers and Music and shitness, just like his old school.

But also friends, unlike his old school.

He’s still considering this point when he ambles out of the toilets, swinging lazily into the corridor that he knows from Sollux’s reliable information leads to the sixth form common room, before stopping abruptly. Because the corridor’s not empty anymore.

Dave’s there. And he’s talking to none other than Tavros Nitram.

At first, John is confused. Tavros hates Dave, and probably even more so after what happened yesterday. Tavros has never had anything to do with Dave, other than be locked in a cupboard numerous times just because he’s short and Dave thinks it’s funny. So why is he talking to Dave? Is there something wrong? Is Tavros trying to sabotage Dave and John's…whatever it is? What’s going on?

It takes him a few moments to realise that what’s probably going on is Dave explaining to Tavros what happened between him and Sollux, that there’s nothing going on anymore, why Sollux didn’t tell, what’s been happening in their respective lives and everything that Sollux explained to John when they were sitting on the bridge. From the earnest look on Dave’s face, John’s hit the nail on the head. He can’t see what Tavros’ expression is, but he hopes it’s not stony and sour and cross and angry and unforgiving like it was when Sollux walked into school earlier. John’s pretty sure the moment Sollux gathered the courage to let his gaze flicker to Tavros’ face his heart broke, maybe for the eighth or ninth or twenty-fifth time since yesterday.

He decides to edge a little closer, see if he can hear what they’re saying. Maybe they’re just talking about Music, or whatever, and John’s got it entirely wrong. Or maybe he can gather some information and run back to Sollux and tell him that Tavros’ not actually about to decapitate him through anger and jealousy and general Tavros-ness.

“…Sollux,” John hears as he gets closer into their earshot, edging along the edge of the corridor and praying Dave doesn’t see him before slipping into an empty office near where they’re standing and listening intently. He’s not close enough for listening to be an easy feat, but he’s close enough to hear if he strains.

“But you?” he hears Tavros say. “Fuck, man, I’m sure you’re a right old sweetheart deep down but…fuck, it’s got to be deep down.”

“I should hire you as my personal self-esteem booster,” Dave says, but there’s no frost in his voice. He’s honestly just trying to make things a little bit better. “Christ, Tavros, I’ve explained everything to you. He’s done nothing wrong, not really. Can’t you just forgive him?”

“I don’t ‘just forgive’ anybody,” Tavros says stubbornly. John hears Dave sigh.

“Do you know how much you mean to him?” Dave says suddenly.

“Yeah, I-“

“You don’t,” Dave interrupts. “You don’t know. Sollux would do anything for you. Sollux would give his life up for you. Sollux’s willing to watch you grow old with anyone else, anyone, as long as it makes you happy. Do you know how strong of a feeling it takes to override the inherent human selfishness inside us? Sollux doesn’t necessarily want you to be with him. He was okay with you being with John, because it made you happy. All Sol’s ever wanted is your happiness, your safety, everything and anything only for you. Do you know how many times he’s cried about you, come to me and sobbed for hours and hours and hours? Do you know how often he’s had to put on a brave face, smile and pretend everything’s okay when it’s not? Do you know what it’s like to be stupidly, ridiculously, head-over-heels in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?”

“I do love him,” Tavros protests.

“Not as much as he loves you,” Dave says. “He’d sell his soul to you. He’d probably kill his entire family for you. Anything you want, you need, he’ll do, he’ll get. Everything, anything. Fuck, Tavros, you’re his fucking world, his life.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Tavros says in a small voice. “I want him to be happy too. I treat him like shit. I hurt him. I’m not good enough for him.”

“Say that again,” Dave says, “but not to me. Say it to him.”

“That I’m a dick to him?”

“No, you idiot,” Dave says, and John can almost imagine him rolling his eyes. “Tell him that you want him to be happy too. Because you really don’t deserve him, Tavros, Christ.”

“I know,” Tavros says, and it’s so quiet and subdued that John barely hears it. “I don’t know why he loves me. But I’m so fucking glad he does.”

“There you go,” Dave says, more gently this time. “Go and get him. Talk to him. Make up – hell, make out. Just not in front of me, because that’s kind of gross.”

“Thanks, Dave,” Tavros says, but it’s not sarcastic and it’s not unkind, it’s just a little tentative and worried, as if he’s thinking what the fuck am I doing taking advice from someone who’s bullied me for the past God knows how many years. Which, to be honest, probably is what he’s thinking. John hears footsteps drawing nearer and shrinks away from the door, trying to make himself as small as possible so that Tavros won’t see him if he happens to throw a passing glance into this disused office, but then they stop abruptly, right outside the door. There's a pause, and a small giggle.

“Hey, Dave?” Tavros’s voice says, much louder than before.

“Yeah?” Dave says.

“Do you…do you love John?”

What the hell kind of question is that? Dave and John haven’t known each other very long at all. It’s not like Tavros and Sollux, where there’s been something going on for years and years and years. It’s been a few weeks, months at most. Christ, Tavros can’t just ask Dave that. If someone had asked John that, John’s not sure what answer he would have given. He doesn’t even know what love feels like. How can he define it? How does he even tell the difference between that and a stupid little crush? What’s love and what’s lust, where’s the line between true feelings and infatuation?

He’s expecting Dave to answer something along these lines, evasive and questioning and what the fuck you can’t even ask someone that, but he doesn’t.

“Yeah,” he hears Dave say. “I do.”

And he’s pretty sure Tavros throws a smirk into the office John’s occupying as he passes by.  
-  
John’s still reeling from the events of the day. The one good thing that his mind has sorted out from the rest of the clutter and junk and crap in there is that the argument between Tavros and Sollux had been short-lived. They’d kissed at break, for the first time – Tavros had come running out of the building and pulled Sollux up and into his arms, pressing their lips together inelegantly and pulling him close and moaning a little against Sollux’s lips.

John has to ignore how hot it was to watch them kiss.

Equius, Rufioh and Rose had whooped and cheered, and breathless and panting, Tavros and Sollux had pulled apart, grinning at each other in the love-struck way only starry-eyed lovers can. John had found himself grinning, because after all that time, after all the fuss and trouble and pain Tavros has gone through, things are finally looking up for him. Things are finally going to be okay.

He’s taken the long route home – well, he’s gone to the bridge, which isn’t even on the route home but he doesn’t really care – because he has to think about things, try and sort out what the fuck is going on between him and Dave.

Dave loves him. That much is clear. He said so to Tavros, and it didn’t sound like a lie – it’s not really like Dave to lie, just maybe…tell selective truths. But he never specified what kind of love, did he? It could just be friendly love, what John feels towards the Sexicans, Equius, Sollux and Rose.

It’s not, though, is it? that annoying little voice that never shuts up says, and John exhales deeply, tilting his head back to look at the darkening sky above the waterfall. This place is supposed to make him feel calmer, help him sort out his thoughts, not make him feel even more jumpy and confused.

“I thought I might find you here,” Dave’s voice says from beside him, and John lets his eyes flutter shut, stifling a groan. Just who he doesn’t need at all right now.

“Go away,” he mumbles.

“No,” Dave says, and John scowls, opening his eyes again and glancing at the glittering water opposite him.

“I need to think,” John says.

“I need to talk,” Dave says.

“Go talk to a mirror,” John says.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Find a photo of me.”

"John.”

“Dave.” Dave sighs.

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s why you love me.” And it’s just a passing comment, just what John would say to anyone – to the Sexicans, to Sollux, to Equius, to Rose, to Jade, Kanaya, his grandmother, anyone – but Dave’s suddenly silent. And John remembers, but by then it’s too late. The words have left his mouth.

“Have you ever felt so lost that you thought there was no way you’d ever be able to return to normal?” John opens his mouth, thinking no, I haven’t, but then he closes it again.

Because actually, before Dave, he did. He’s forgotten what it’s like to feel like that now, though, because he’s got Dave.

And that is the most terrifying realisation he’s ever had.

“Me too,” Dave says quietly, interpreting John’s silence correctly. “Every minute of every hour of every day of every year. I felt so lost and hopeless and worthless and useless and unimportant and meaningless that I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t love myself – I didn’t like myself – and I didn’t love or like anyone around me either. I didn’t care.” He lapses into silence for a moment.

“Remember the first time we were on this bridge?” Dave asks, and John nods grimly. He remembers it all too well. “Remember how I asked you what you could see here?”

“Stars,” John says thoughtfully, gazing up at the dusk-stricken sky, the sunset bleeding red and orange and yellow and pink and purple and blue into the sky. “No streetlights. Just stars.”

“That was the first night things were okay,” Dave says. “Because I wasn’t looking at the streetlights. I was looking at the stars.” John frowns.

“I thought Sollux was your streetlights?” he says, and Dave grins, but shakes his head.

“Kind of,” he allows. “He was for a while. But there was never anyone else. He wasn’t obstructing my view to anyone else.”

“So what was your streetlight?” John asks.

“Suicide.”

The water suddenly seems ten times louder, the air ten times colder, the sky ten times darker.

“Suicide was my streetlight. Suicide blocked me from seeing what I really needed, from the stars and the comets and the asteroids. I was so focused on the idea of dying, of the fantasy world of what if I didn’t have to deal with any of this anymore that I didn’t see anything else - couldn’t see anything else.”

“So what was your stars?” John asks.

“Life. Living, breathing, keeping my heart beating, being. I didn’t see what beauty there could be in life, what, though it would need more work to get to, it holds for me. And you showed me that. You showed me that there’s love out there, life out there, friendship and kindness and goodness and things worth staying alive for. Because you, John Egbert, aren’t my stars, nor my comets, nor my asteroids or my streetlights or my moon. You’re my sky.”

“What?” John asks.

“You hold everything together. You hold my life. You hold everything I am, everything I was, and everything I could potentially be. You are the only thing keeping me alive, John. You’re everything I’ve got, everything I am.”

John doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“What I’m trying to say,” Dave says with a sigh, raking his hands through his hair, “is that I love you, John. I’m in love with you.”

Both of them are silent as John lets that sink in.

Dave loves him. Not only does Dave love him, but Dave’s in love with him. The difference between the two may seem subtle, but in reality it’s anything but. The difference is between being a reason for the person to live, and being the only reason they’re keeping their heart beating.

And that’s terrifying, that Dave’s life depends on John. But it doesn’t scare John, not really.

Because in the depths of his mind, he knows it’s the same thing he feels with Dave. 

Because he’s in love with Dave too.

He doesn’t say that. He can’t say that. He can’t find the words to say Dave, even though you’re a twat and I still kind of hate you, I don’t, because I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve never been so in love with anyone before. He’s too scared to, anyway. He can’t bring himself to say it, because then it will be true.

Instead, he kisses Dave. He kisses him with every ounce of emotion and passion and love that he can find within him, shredding every inch of happiness and devotion and friendship and love that he can from his soul and giving it to Dave. Because, in loving Dave, he’s already given himself to him anyway, so what’s the difference?

Dave breaks away from him after a good few minutes, and they stare at each other, grinning.

Because yeah, John’s not good at beginnings. John’s not good at much. He’s not good at making friends, keeping friends, being a friend, loving, being loved, school, work, anything. He’s never been good enough at anything to be happy, never been happy enough to be free.

But here, right here, with the boy he loves under the stars that brought them together, he thinks he might be. He’s not just happy, he’s free.

And under the stars, under the moon and the sun and the comets and the asteroids and all that other junk floating around in the sky, he fell in love.

And under the stars, under the moon and the sun and the comets and the asteroids and all that other junk floating around in the sky, he plans to stay in love. He plans to stay in love until there are no more stars in the sky.

Oh, there’s a million stars tonight,  
A single one could save my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fine.

**Author's Note:**

> thankyou for reading!~  
> feedback is appreciated ^-^


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